Awakening
by bowmaiden
Summary: The "sequel" to When I Wake. A series of books that depict the years after the War of the Ring, answering your questions from my previous story. Will Theoden ever figure out he was supposed to die? Why did Claire have to leave Middle-earth? What happened to Lothiriel? Eomer/OC. Eventual Erchirion/OC. Parts 2-5 of the Sleeping Series.
1. Prolouge

**A/N:** _Hello readers new and old! This is the continuation of my first LotR fanfic, When I Wake. The ending of that was left quite ambiguous on certain levels, and I expect most of you are here to get the answers you deserve. Why did Claire have to leave Middle-earth first and did she ever find love? What about Lothiriel? Will Theoden ever figure out he was supposed to die? This story, focusing on those questions and more, will be told through these books (of which I am expecting there to be four)._

 _I am a firm believer that some couples have it way easier than others. For Kristen and Faramir, their lives turn out relatively simple, and thus become the foil to Eomer and Rachel. The latter's history, I have found in writing this, is rather tragic, but at the same time, so beautiful and full of pure love. Claire, too, finds her end in this, and I will deem you, my dear readers, to judge whether I have made the right choices for her end._

 _Here is your first warning: This is not like my first story. There is smut and there is violence and there are adult situations. It's rated M for a reason, is what I'm trying to say. I'll post a warning at the beginning of each chapter containing said mature themes. I'm not sure how long this story will last, but I will publish it in parts. I am also glad to announce I will have a regular updating schedule! A new chapter every Sunday! I am also going to be responding to any reviews left that are wordy or informative or questioning enough to warrant a response, so send in those reviews!_

 _So, here I leave you, dear reader, with the prologue to Awakening._

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Book 1: One in a Million

Chapter 1: Prologue

 _Third Age 3020, February_

-Eomer-

Another victory in hand came for me and my Erolingas. We slashed down the final known remaining Orcs in the Westfold and we drank well that night at the tavern in Aldburg. It had been nine months since Rachel had told me we were not meant to fight in the same legion. She now served under Elfhelm, First Marshal of the Mark. Elfhelm's army, however, had not much to do as of late. Regretfully, I continued to leave Rachel in Edoras, for these missions fell into my defending territory.

Theoden's sickness had not improved. Rachel insisted that she did not mind sitting by his side, but I was reminded of Eowyn, forced to tend to him under the influence of Saruman while Theodred and I continued to ride out and fight the growing numbers of Uruk-hai. I did not want Rachel to carry that burden as Eowyn had. Nor did I want her near my uncle as of late.

The King did not have many days left and I dwelled on that as I drank my ale. As his heir, there were things I was expected to do, one of them being declaring a successor to my post as Third Marshal. Kings did not fight in the small brawls of Orcs. It would be only wars from there on out, though Aragorn had declared this new age an age of peace. It would be nothing but politics for me, a thought that made me grimace. The sword was what I knew. Diplomacy and council were not things I was knowledgeable of.

Then there was the problem that had come to Theoden's attention a week ago. Hemonbold, one of my uncle's advisors, called me into the King's Hall.

"She is not Rohirric," Hemonbold said.

"She is nothing of this land. She calls herself 'American'. We have adopted her into our country."

"And a great deed this is, Lord Eomer, and fine, if she is to remain a commoner."

"Uncle," I said, turning to him. "I do not understand why we are having this pointless discussion."

"Eomer," he muttered, gently. "As heir to this throne there are things expected of you. Traditions that have long held in place." He took a breath then. "I am old, nephew. The spells casted on me have aged me more that you could tell from the exterior. You will take this throne. The people expect you to marry a woman of Rohan. It would be an insult to wed an outsider."

"Since when is Rachel an outsider?" I spat. Never did I talk to the king like this, but his accusations were too outrageous to process. "You did not hold these opinions after her near death on Pelennor. You have gone and brought her into this House, treated her like a daughter, given her higher rank than most of our citizens. Now you would tell me these actions are forfeit because of outdated traditions?"

"Remember who you are addressing, boy," Theoden snarled. "You can't have expected anyone to believe that you intended to keep the girl. You have never kept any woman that drew your desire."

"None of them were her."

Theoden rubbed at his eyes. He looked tired and, indeed, old. "I should have put a stop to your games. I care for the girl, understand that. But care is a surface. Blood runs deeper. You cannot marry her, Eomer."

My blood boiled with my notorious temper. Rachel was the one thing on this earth that kept me human. The loss of Theodred and then Eowyn had driven me to near-insanity. My lust for battle and blood had never been higher. Those weeks I spent angry at Rachel, for no good reason, kept my head from ignoring those emotions of grief I needed to feel. If she had perished on Pelennor…I shuddered to think of the monster I would have become.

Rohirric or not, she would one day be my wife. She would be queen of this land by my side. There was no one else who could fill that void in my heart were she to leave. With one last grimace at my uncle and his aid, I left the Hall. My army would be leaving for Aldburg by dawn, in seven hours. Seven hours I would spend with my love that my uncle would not take from me.

 _Please review!_


	2. His

_A/N: Hello friends! Here is your smut warning: Ahem. This chapter contains smut and rated M content. Proceed with caution._

 _Enjoy!_

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 _Chapter 2: His_

 _Third Age 3020, February_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Rachel-

The nightmares where not always there. The best nights were the ones Eomer spent with me. We had developed a tradition. We always seemed to leave the city for a battle whenever the other was in Edoras and we would spend the night together. It was innocent. We merely talked or shared a few kisses. He was determined to wait until marriage, something the 21st century girl inside of me rolled her eyes at. The fight over that issue had been one of our greatest yet.

"You so do not have a right to get angry at me for this!"

"You tell me you have been bedded before marriage like some common…"

"Some common what?" I sneered, daring him to finish that sentence. Lucky for him, he kept his mouth shut. "I'm not an idiot. I know you didn't wait until marriage. I know you didn't wait until marriage way more than once. You don't see me getting angry about that."

"My exploits are a different matter," he said. I could feel his arguments crumbling to dust in his head. He knew I was right, but a lifetime of thinking like this had left him stubborn and hypocritical to the cause.

"Why is that, Lord Eomer?" I taunted. "Couldn't keep it in your pants? Couldn't wait to rub it out later that night?" I grinned as he winced at my words. No one talked to him like this except me. Especially women. "Is that too harsh for you? I don't know how this could shock you after knowing me for eight months, but women and men are equal. In fighting, in politics, and yes, Eomer, even in sex."

I could tell I'd broken his stupid defenses down. He may not agree with everything I was saying, but he could not deny its hypocrisy. I took a breath to calm my anger and sat down beside him. I could feel his body tense, but I ignored it. "I didn't tell you about this to make you angry. I told you because I don't think there should be any secrets." I paused for him to respond, but he said nothing. I did my best to understand his point-of-view without throwing myself under the bus. "I'm guessing you feel this way because you think I'm supposed to belong to only you?" Again, he did not answer. "But you never thought you'd belong to anyone?" I asked. This time, my pause for his answer droned on for minutes. This was a question I needed answered and I refused to move or speak until he broke the silence.

"Theodred was the heir," he said at last. Now we were getting somewhere. "I never expected to marry. My life was the sword. I never expected it to be an obligation." He paused, turning back to me. He was still pissed, but at least he was talking. "I never expected to want to marry outside of obligation."

My stomach did a flip at this revelation. He wanted to marry me. _Shut up_ , I told my brain. _He didn't propose, you idiot. Stick to the subject._ "Who's to say that I didn't feel the same way when I slept with that guy?" I asked gently. "I know this is how you've seen the world your whole life. I can't get mad at you for it. But can't you try and put yourself in my boots?"

"What was his name?" Eomer asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Answer me, woman."

I rolled my eyes. "His name was Nick."

"And was Nick a warrior? A commoner?"

"Nick was a musician."

He chuckled. "But a commoner."

"You know, technically, I'm a commoner."

His head fell into his hands then. "Yes, you are," was all he would say.

Now, I waited for him tonight in my chambers at Meduseld. No one knew he snuck in here at night, save Hilda, my maid. Good old Hilda would keep anything to herself, so long as she thought we were being decent. There was no way I was telling her I wasn't a virgin. She'd probably try to have me cleansed or something.

I heard my door open quietly and came out from the changing divider in the corner of the room. His face was red and his eyes flashed with frustration. What did I do now? Was he going to ruin tonight? Not often did we part in argument, but it had definitely happened more than once. "What's wrong?" I asked, cautiously.

He looked up from the floor then and into my eyes. The fury left them almost immediately. It must not have been me that pissed him off. "Do not worry about that now," he said. "Come sit with me."

I sat down on my bed next to him, trying to ignore the frustration in his eyes. "Seriously, Eomer," I said, placing my hand on his cheek. He normally had a beard there, but he had recently shaved. "What is the matter?"

"Merely a plight with my uncle," he muttered. "I do not want to ruin tonight." He placed his hand on top of my own, the one that cradled his face and brought it down, keeping a firm grip on it. "Rachel," he began. I noted the seriousness in his voice. "One year and a month it has been since I first met you in the Riddermark. Eleven months since the vileness of Sauron was plagued from these lands. Eleven months I have been with you." He paused, swallowing down something. My stomach was in knots. There was only one thing that would make Eomer this nervous. "You have saved me from certain doom. I know not the monster I would have become had you not been there to save me from my sister's death. I know that I have loved you though every obstacle we have faced and we will undoubtedly face more." He looked into my eyes, and if I wasn't so excited I probably would have tossed my cookies right then and there. "Will you do me the honor of pledging your troth to me tonight, in the halls of my forbearers, with them as our witnesses?"

That nervousness I get that radiates throughout my whole body into the palms of my hands shuddered through me in that moment. But something bigger took over the nerves in me that night. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me. I felt his face bury in my neck. "Yes," I breathed right into his ear. "Yes, Eomer."

He pulled back, but only slightly to lay his mouth upon mine. I inhaled his sent of fresh hay as my tongue entered his mouth. I had tasted every bit of this space throughout the past. He was honorable to me and we had never gone further. But tonight, I would break him. Though we were not yet wed, tonight I would have him. In this moment, the happiest of my life, he would be mine, and I his.

I grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled him down onto the mattress. I felt my back sink into the down feathers, his arms on either side of my face, keeping his larger frame hovered above mine. He broke the kiss then, his breathing hard and rough. "I would have you tonight, love, if you would ask it of me," he said.

"Don't tell Hilda," I grinned, reaching up and pulling him back to me. I grabbed the collar of his shirt, undoing the ties, then reaching for the end at his waist and pulling it up. He parted our mouths then, tugging the green fabric over his head. He grabbed my upper arms and pulled me into a sitting position, bringing his mouth to my neck as he reached behind me and undid the buttons of my dress. I felt his hands caress the contours of my bare spine, sending shivers through my skin and out my breath. When he reached the neck of the dress, he pulled down, forcing my arms out of their sleeves.

He pulled back then, our eyes scanning each other's bare skin, catching our breaths as we explored. I saw his hand twitch when his eyes reached my breasts and I leaned toward him, grabbing his wrist and placing his palm upon the delicate skin there, telling him with my eyes that this was what I wanted. His eyes were hungry as I leaned into him, bringing out bodies close again, only now, I was on top.

Gently, his fingers rolled the bulge of my nipple between them and I felt a spasm of pleasure seep throughout my chest. I placed kisses on his chest as I reached down and untied the base of his breeches. I could feel his erection through the leather as I undid the pants. Finally, I could reach and grab him, working my hand up and down as he moaned into my hair.

His hands left my breasts and pulled my skirt from my body. I had not been wearing shoes, and now I was completely naked. His hands grabbed my hips then, bringing me off of him and back onto the mattress. I heard the clunk of his boots hit the floor and he wrenched off his breeches, exposing himself as well.

He fell back on top of me, our mouths reaching for each other in this hunger that had consumed us. I felt his fingers probe my clit and I gasped with the sudden jolt of tension it brought. He was gone from my mouth again as his own slid down my body, wrapping it in sensual kisses. My cheek, neck, chest, breast, torso, hip, thigh. Then, suddenly, he kissed the folds of my parts and his tongue explored. The feeling was like no other as he found the spot, sending waves of pleasure throughout my entire being. My fists clenched in the fabric of the sheets. My legs would have collapsed had his hands not been holding them, grasping at the skin there. My back arched and moans escaped my throat.

I felt his mouth leave and he worked his way back above me as I recovered from the orgasm. Is face was above mine now and I could feel him, erect with pleasure, against the folds of my skin he had just left. His hips began to move, sliding his girth over top of my clit. A second wave spread through me then, but he broke it as he entered.

Slowly he began, thrusting gently in and out, stretching me and my fists balled again. A moan escaped his throat as his own hands clutched at the fabric of the sheets. I could feel my natural lube leaking from inside as he thrusted, making it easier for him to go deeper and deeper. And deeper he went as the muscles in my legs, hips, and stomach contracted further and further until the release came again, sending the orgasm throughout my entire being.

I felt him shudder as we released together, in total synchronicity. He lay down beside me as we caught our breaths, letting the sweat roll down from our skins. When I could breathe again, I curled into him, letting him hold me against his hard torso. "I love you," I whispered into the tiny blond hairs of his chest.

"We will never be apart," he said, a ferocity to his words. He seemed to be speaking not only to me, but to the world. He reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his pants, digging into the pocket. He brought out a gold band. In the center lay a beautiful green gem, small, but striking. "This was my mother's," he said. "She gave it to me before she died. I had intended to give it to the man Eowyn would marry. But I know now that it was always meant for your finger." He placed it around my left ring-finger.

I stared at my hand. Somehow, the ring fit perfectly. I looked back into his green eyes. "I don't have one for you."

He pulled me closer to his body, if that were possible. "What you have given me is greater than a ring. We are betrothed," he whispered into my hair.

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 _A/N: Yes, I know I'm not that good at smut. Forgive me._

 **ananethel** : _Glad you're back for another one of my silly stories!_


	3. Confidante

_A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! Even if you're not from the US, I thought a nice treat to update a few days early! It's not that long of a chapter, so I don't see the harm! See you again on Sunday!_

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 _Chapter 3: Confidante_

 _Third Age 3020, February_

 _Aldburg, Rohan_

-Eomer-

I sat in the tavern, my men jovial around me. I found it hard to celebrate in their place, my actions having been haunting me since I left Rachel's bed the next morning, earning a curious look from Hilda. Surely Theoden would have told her the decision made by him and Hemonbold. He would ask her to back away, since he viewed me as too weak to do so myself. But we had lain together, shared a bed. Our troth had been pledged. He could not break that bond.

I knew I had been selfish, and my distance from Rachel this last week made that evermore apparent. In a heartbeat, I would choose her over this entire kingdom. Theoden, and parts of myself, were scared of this fact. But who is he to speak for the people? I knew the commoners of Edoras adored her. Frequently she would be down in the village, talking to the residents and sharing gossip. Her title of second-in-command to the First Marshal had intimidated them at first. Theoden's decree had not been altogether popular. But eventually, the people warmed to the idea. Many women in the land now knew how to hoist a weapon and defend themselves, if necessary. This was all thanks to Rachel. She was a natural leader and a good diplomat. I could not see the people denying her the title of Queen simply because of her foreign blood.

Erkenbrand sat next to me, his mug sloshing with ale. I had long considered Erkenbrand something of an older brother and our relationship was more informal then the rest of the men. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "What troubles you, lad?" he said. I had expected his voice to slur, but it seemed he had not quite as much to drink as I had supposed.

"I do not wish to burden you with my petty problems during this time of celebration," I said.

He scoffed. "Since when have you ever been a burden? Now tell me the matter. Let it off your chest."

I found myself wanting to tell him. I was tired of carrying this burden. "Before we left Edoras, Rachel and I pledged our troth to each other."

His face was suddenly sober and serious. He placed his mug on the table. "Get up," he said, looking around at the men's faces to see if they had heard.

He led me outside the tavern, making sure we hadn't been followed. "Has your mind left your head?" he said, accusingly.

"Watch your tongue," I snarled. Friend or not, I was still his Marshal.

"You can't know the repercussions of what you have done."

"Why do you speak to me this way? I have done nothing wrong." Nothing that he knew about, at least.

"You can't know how the men gossip," Erkenbrand said, his eyes flashing with embarrassment. "They know you would flail them alive if you were to hear their accusations."

"What do they say?" I growled in the direction of the tavern.

"They question her honor. The way you two parade around Meduseld, it is not hard to see the experience in her eyes, whether it had been by your hand or another's. They expected her to simply be your mistress, if that."

"It is not their right to expect," I said, the temper rising in my voice. "They dare make those accusations of her?"

"Eomer, we both know she is not a pure one. Was it you or another?" He was so serious.

I could not ruin her, even to just Erkenbrand. I know he cared for her and I could not ruin his thoughts. "I have only bedded her the night of our betrothal," I admitted. "She had lain with no other. The men mistake our informality as experience. There is nothing wrong with what I have done."

He seemed to doubt me, but his expression softened. "I know many forget or do not know that she is foreign to not only Rohan, but all of Arda. Her customs would be different, of course." He paused, his eyes growing sympathetic. "But that is another matter. Surely you've spoken about this to the king? He approved your troth?"

I grimaced at getting caught. "Theoden in unaware, last I saw of him before our departure."

Erkenbrand ran a hand through his graying hair. "She has no father, no one to ask permission of to take her. The least you could do was earn your uncle's blessing."

"She says she belongs to no one and is not property. To have asked anyone's permission but her's would have been an insult to her." This I knew to be true. She had told me as much.

"Be that as it may," Erkenbrand continued. "Your uncle lies in bed most days, too weak to emerge. He will not be here much longer. Do not let him die without giving him the pleasure of a new niece."

I leaned against the wall, happy to be rid of his prying and judging. He chuckled then. "Why do you laugh?" I asked.

"I just never thought I'd see the day Eomer, Son of Eomund would be pledged in troth outside obligation. I am happy you have found her, my friend. Now, we should gather the men. The quarterly market is tomorrow and Aldburg will not be pleased if their ale stocks have diminished."

"Erkenbrand," I said, stopping his movement towards the tavern entrance. "Don't tell the men."

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The quarterly market was a long-standing tradition in Rohan. All of the commoners waited for it. Rachel would be in Edoras now, our first market apart. We had developed a tradition of separating after midday meal and finding each other for dinner, bringing a gift for the other back with us. She had gifted me a fine fur cloak that I wore around my shoulders now. I didn't know if she intended to buy me anything this time since we were separated, but I thought long and hard of what I would buy her today, for I would not return empty-handed.

A vendor stood at his stall adorned with books. Rachel loved to read and spent many days of summer simply engrossed in their pages. More than reading, she loved to write her own tales. She was always filling pages with ink and she would always let me read her tales. Stories from her homeworld, both of fiction and her own experiences.

I stopped outside of the stall. Three men of odd coloring and a woman whose face was obscured stood there. I made eye contact with the tallest, whose eyes widened. He bowed his head politely. "Rhilen," he muttered. "There is a food stall over there. Let us not linger." He placed his hand on the woman's shoulder, keeping her head down and walking away with the other two men, who looked concerned at their companion's haste.

"May I help you with anything, Master Rider?" the vender asked, distracting me from the antics of the four travelers.

"I seek a journal. A grand journal full of empty pages."

He smiled kindly. "I have just the thing." He reached onto a shelf behind him, producing a leather-clad book, dyed a deep purple.

I smiled at the vendor. "It is perfect."

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 _Please Review!_

 **konohanabaku** : _While I really appreciate your reading and supporting my story, your comment made me uncomfortable. While this story may be dealing with those topics in the future, it is **never** okay to glorify rape and just toss that word around. _


	4. Run

_Chapter 4: Run_

 _Third Age 3020, February_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Rachel-

I sat at my vanity, fingering the moss-colored ring and Hilda knocked on my door. I knew it was Hilda. No one knocked like she did, like she already had permission to enter. I tore the ring off of my finger, not wanting her to know. I had stuffed my bed linens into a basket, not wanting her to smell our sweat that poured into the sheets. I needed to invent Fa-breeze. "Come in," I called, dropping the ring into a drawer just in time.

"Milady," Hilda greeted, entering. She was a plump woman, her blonde hair streaked with gray, and her crow-footed eyes were kind, yet stern. "I hope you had a pleasant evening."

"Eomer had fought with the king. His mood could have been better." I knew lying to Hilda was the best way to get my tryst from last night past her. If I had said the night was normal or just pleasant, she would have seen right through that. If she thought something went wrong, she wouldn't have a clue.

"Poor Theoden King," Hilda muttered. "He has requested your presence in his Hall today, milady. His Valet says his spat with Lord Eomer last night had him in low spirits." A look of guilt passed over her face. "Though, I shouldn't be spreading the rumors of the Hall servants."

"I won't say anything," I promised. I wondered why Theoden had requested me. It had been a month since I had left the capitol and nearly every day I somehow made it to his side, keeping him company or bringing him small glasses of brandy to help with his headaches.

"Perhaps this one, milady?" Hilda asked, pulling a lilac dress from inside my wardrobe. I never cared about what I wore, but Hilda always made sure I was fine with her choices. She lay the dress across my sheet-less bed, noticing it for the first time. "Milady, is there something wrong with your sheets?"

"I bled unexpectedly last night in my sleep," I said, keeping up the lie. "I stripped the sheets this morning so you wouldn't have to deal with it."

"That was kind of you, milady, but unnecessary. Should I fetch some bleeding garments for you?" That's another thing I needed to invent for Middle-earth. Tampons.

"No, I have plenty." I grabbed my brush from my vanity and started to comb out the tresses. My hair had always been thick and easily tangled. When I first came to Middle-earth it barely reached my shoulders. Now it flowed down past the middle of my back. "I wish you would let me chop it off," I said to my maid.

"Tis unbecoming," she said. "Would you like me to tame it for you?"

I immediately thrusted the brush in her direction and she chuckled. Though Hilda was formal and way too judgmental, she was the closest thing in Middle-earth I had to a mother. I sunk into my chair, letting her brush through the knots that had resulted from last night's activities. It had been awhile since I had slept with someone. My body wasn't used to it. It was nice to lean back and relax under her soft touch.

Hilda's story was what made her judgements forgivable. Looking at her aged figure now, you wouldn't believe it, but she had once been quite the beauty, or so I'd been told. She was brought into a union set up by her father, a miller, and one of Edoras's blacksmiths. Two nights before their union she was mending a pair of her father's trousers in the mill. Another man in the village had wanted her for his own, but her father had turned down his proposal. He didn't want Hilda marrying a soldier and not knowing if he would return. He found her in the mill that night, drunk and angry that she was to be someone else's. He took her innocence there in the mill, covering her mouth so no one could hear her screams. Her father found her the next morning. He knew these actions had not been Hilda's fault and tried to ready her for her marriage. But after the union had taken place, the blacksmith's son found the marks of sex on her body and knew her to be impure. He refused to consummate the marriage and left Hilda to disgrace.

Theodwyn, who was three years younger than Hilda and living in Meduseld, had heard her story and took pity on the peasant girl. She provided her with a job and a home to live in after her parents passed. Theoden was the one who told me her story after I first got here and tried to refuse a handmaiden. I really didn't need one, but this was her job and it would have been rude and wrong of me to refuse her services.

She finished my hair by gathering the strands at the hairline and braiding it down the back to lay on top of the rest, keeping it out of my face. Her hands had felt so good and I was sad she had finished. "You should get dressed, milady. I took longer on your hair than usual. Do you want breakfast?"

"I'm fine, Hilda, thank you," I said. She nodded and left the room.

I let my sleeping gown fall off of my shoulders and pulled the lilac one on. I remembered some of the regal dresses that had been made for Kristen back in Ithilian and thanked the Valar that Rohan preferred simplicity to their garments. There was no difficult fastenings or corsets. Though I always preferred pants, Hilda insisted on tailoring these gowns for me. "The consort to the heir should not parade with her thighs exposed for other men to gander at," she had told me. Like it was my fault the Riders couldn't keep it in their pants.

I slipped on a simple pair of ankle-high boots, as I was planning on visiting Windfola like I did every day. Then I headed out the door.

My room was located on the highest floor of the Golden Hall. From its windows I could see the entire village. The walk to the throne room was a pleasant one. Throughout the entire hall, tapestries of Rohan's history were hung proudly for my viewing pleasure. My favorite hung at the end of the hall. It depicted Eorl, the first king of Rohan commanding the Shieldmaidens that included his wife. It was a time of war where every citizen was needed. Only members of the royal family were given the title of Shieldmaiden these days, as Eowyn had. After the war, many had called me the Bowmaiden, since that was my weapon of choice.

I entered the king's throne room and the old man was sitting on his pedestal. He was so different then the man I had embarrassed all those months ago on the steps of Meduseld. Really, he seemed more like the first version of him I had encountered, the one under Saruman's control.

His gaze, which normally greeted me warmly, was stern. Shit, did he know what had happened last night? Gods, Rachel. Couldn't wait any longer to screw him, could ya? But the look on his face was not disappointment.

"You summoned me, my lord?" I said, walking up to his throne and bowing. This was all so formal for me and the king. Lately, I came and went as I pleased, a welcomed comfort to the king. Why did he look at me that way?

"Rachel, child," he said, somewhat somberly. "We need to talk, my dear."

"Is there something I have done?" I asked.

"It is what I have done. Or, rather, what I did not do." He motioned for me to sit in my normal chair at his side. "Rachel, I fear I have made a great mistake in judgement on my part."

"Concerning what, my lord?"

He took a long breath. "You and Eomer."

My stomach did a flip. "I don't understand."

"For many years—most of his adult years, in fact—Eomer vowed he would not take a bride. He vowed this for many reasons, but I believe the biggest was that he didn't want a wife at home worrying if he would return from whatever battle he happened to be fighting. He didn't want to be tied down with that weight while he fought.

"When you came along, I saw love in his eyes for the first time at your fall on the field. With his reputation I did not think it would escalate into what it has today."

"My lord, I don't understand where you're going with this."

The king looked pained. What the hell was going on? "Rachel, he cannot marry you. As the future king, he is bound by certain traditions that do not constitute marriage to a woman who is not of Rohirric blood. My days are numbered, child. We both know this to be true. He will have to take the throne and produce an heir of his own with true roots to this land."

My heart seemed to plummet from my chest to my intestines. A giant knot surfaced in my throat and I felt like I could puke. Theoden sensed my discourse, placing a hand on my shoulder, but the supposed comfort felt like betrayal. Eleven months. Eleven months I lived in his house, getting courted by his nephew. Now he tells me he never meant for it to happen?

"Did…did you tell Eomer of this?" I choked out, forcing my surfacing tears to stay in their ducts.

"Last night. He was…most displeased."

Suddenly, everything made sense. Why he had proposed and why he had finally agreed to sleep with me. Theoden told him he couldn't have me and so he staked his unrelenting claim on my hand in rebellion.

"My dear child," Theoden said, placing his hand below my chin and forcing me to look into his old eyes. "When Eomer returns, he will need to choose a successor to the title of Third Marshal. I am insisting that he choose you. Rohan is your home and you will always belong here. As Third Marshal, you would become the Lady of Aldburg. But you cannot be Queen of this realm."

Somehow, this felt like an insult. Sorry you're not good enough for my family and my throne. Here's some compensation. "You don't think I did this for the throne?" I asked, worried that's what he had implied.

"I feel your love for my nephew blinded you of the fact that the throne would be your fate. No, I know you truly loved him."

I still love him. He fought for me. He wants me despite this.

"I can see the conflict in your eyes," he continued. "I know he would fight to the death for your hand, but he cannot. My advisors and I cannot sway him on this. If you were to marry, it would be to the people as if he had betrayed them. They would not follow a future king who is only half of their culture, as your heir would be. You must do the right thing. Only you can sway Eomer."

He was telling me to back off. "I…forgive me, my lord, but I must retire," I stuttered.

His look was solemn as his hand lifted from my shoulder. "You must do this, Rachel. You are stronger than him."

I all but ran from the Hall and back to my room. Inside, Hilda was putting new sheets on the bed. I slammed the door shut, throwing my back against the closed door, my breathing turning into hyperventilation as I sunk to the floor.

"Milady!" Hilda screamed, rushing to my side. "Milady, what has happened?"

"Leave!" I shouted at her. I could not take her words of comfort. "Leave me be, Hilda. Just go!"

Her face looked hurt, but the loyal servant she was left the room from the door at the other end. My lungs were expanding and retracting so fast I felt as if my breastbone would crack over their pressure.

How could I have been so naïve? Claire had been right. This place wasn't for us. We didn't belong here. We belonged in a world of electricity and running water. How could I have thought everything would work out?

I wanted Claire with me now, and Kristen. I wanted them to hold me and comfort me, not Hilda. I looked around the room that had been given to me. Everything just seemed like a consolation prize. Theoden had used me to tame the horse-lord. Make him tender for marriage. That's all I had been all along.

My breathing calmed as shock was replaced by anger. He had offered to continue to shelter me, but what would it be like when he was gone and Eomer was married to another woman? I couldn't walk these halls knowing someone else here was married to the man I loved.

I couldn't deny what the king said had made sense. His points were well made. Eomer would never leave me. He would give up this country for me. He had proved that last night. That's not right, the rational voice in my head said. You aren't worth the duty to his country. You can't be that selfish.

Then there was the issue about the need to produce an heir. I had not told Eomer my secret on that level. I felt it was something we would talk about later.

If I waited for him to come home, he would never let me leave. If Theoden wanted me away from his heir, then so be it. I ripped my dress over my head and tossed it to a corner. Hilda had made me a special garment for riding, made of leather and soft cloth. It had a skirt sewn to the shirt to hide my "tempting curves". It was February and very cold. I pulled two more layers over my head and another over my trousers. From the back of my closet I found the green Lorien cloak that Aragorn had gifted me, fastening the clip of the intricate green leaf clasp around my neck. I pulled on two pairs of socks and my riding boots that came up to my knees.

In a corner of my room I kept provisions for trips with my eored. A bedroll, packed garments, horse feed for Windfola. It was early in the day, but not yet time for the servants to prepare lunch. The kitchens would be empty. In my bulky clothing, I snuck down to the kitchens. I was right, no one was there. I grabbed a supply of jerky, dried fruits, nuts, bread, and a small bag of carrots for Windfola. I didn't know where I was going, but if the journey lasted longer than my rations, I could hunt or gather. I was good at both.

With my food, I ran back up to my room, stuffing it all in a travel bag. I buckled my sword around my waist and slung my bow and quiver on my back. A gleam of silver caught my eye. The helm Eomer had crafted me gleamed at me from across the room with the rest of my Rohirim armor. I wouldn't need those anymore.

At my vanity, I opened the drawer. Theodwyn's ring glinted from inside. I allowed a single tear to leave my eye as I picked it up and placed it in plain sight. I didn't need to leave a note. He would get the message.

In one trip I carried my provisions to the stables. I couldn't believe my luck that no one was there. It seemed fate was telling me I was doing the right thing.

"Hey beautiful," I greeted my mare, opening her stall and tying her reins to the hook by the door. "We're going on a trip, Windfola. A very long trip." I saddled her quickly and secured my travel gear to her sides before hopping onto her back. The noonday sun was high in the sky, bringing the patches of snow that lingered from the last fall to a sparkle like diamonds. Faces of the people knew it was me. I heard a few mumbles questioning my actions. I saw Elfhelm's house. He would never forgive this unconsented furlough and by doing this I realized I was giving up any chance of that future as Third Marshal.

In fact, I was giving up any future I had here at all.

I couldn't stand their judgmental faces or their curious whispers. I kicked Windfola to her quickest pace and road away from my home. I didn't look back.

I road long and hard, my tears now falling freely from my eyes. It was so cold they seemed to turn to ice when they reached the surface. I road to the southeast because that was the direction I had been facing. Soon, though, Windfola stopped her quick pace and slowed to a trot. This was the downside to taming anything with this much Meara blood. Unlike regular horses, they would not simply follow command. They were essentially, untamable. She did not want to run anymore. It was not important that we did, so she would not.

I sighed, hopping off her back and using my own feet. It felt good to walk. Now that I was away, now that I'd had a good cry about it, I started to think more clearly and rationally.

I hated how I left Hilda. She was a good friend and I had treated and left her like shit. None of this was her fault. She couldn't have possibly known these things. Though, as a commoner, I would have hoped she could have told me she would never accept me as queen, if it came to that.

But if I was certain of anything, it was that I had made the right decision in leaving. Eomer would not know about it for two days. Three at most. I would be long gone by then. I thought of what might happen. I obviously wasn't kidnapped. I made sure people saw me leave. The gossip of Rohan would spread like wildfire. Eomer would try to come after me. I thought about the places he would check. Ithilian would be his first stop, because he thinks I would want to be with Kristen.

That would be wrong, though. While I wanted Kristen when the pain was fresh, I couldn't imagine going to her now. She would do nothing but bad-mouth Eomer and Theoden. I didn't want that. At least not now.

Claire was who I really wanted. She wouldn't say anything to make me feel guilty. She would hold me when I cried, make me tea, and let me sleep. Unfortunately, I had not seen Claire in five months. She agreed to check in to either Ithilian or Rohan every six so that we would know if she were still alive. She had been headed towards Lothlorien in hopes of meeting Galadriel to gain any information on the whereabouts of the Entwives. Lothlorien was not far. About two days on horseback, if Windfola would cooperate.

"You can't trot the whole way there," I said to my mare. "We are headed to the Golden Wood. I know I was hasty, but we cannot linger, Winnie." She let out a snort. I took that to mean a "Whatever you say," and I hopped back on her saddle, hoping that some of the Marchwardens there would remember me from the Hornburg one year ago.

-Eomer-

Immediately when we hit the city, I knew something was wrong. The peoples' rejoice at our return seemed halfhearted. I tried to ignore my own paranoia, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off as I put Firefoot in his stable. I noticed the absence of Windfola, but assumed they had let her out to run with the other horses. _Stop these retched thoughts_ , I told my mind as I pulled Rachel's gift from one of Firefoot's satchels.

Though I wanted desperately to see Rachel and wondered what might have transpired between her and the king, I had an obligation to report back to Theoden at once.

In his throne room, the king sat, looking tired and frail. "My Lord Theoden," I addressed him. "The last known party of Orcs that raids our villages has been eradicated from Northhelm."

"You are a day later then we expected you," Theoden said.

"The men deserved ale and a good night's rest after their victory. We took refuge in a tavern outside of Aldburg."

"Eomer," the king began. By his tone, I knew my suspicions had been correct. Something was wrong. "Would you sit down, my boy?"

"No, uncle, I will stand. My mind screams with warnings, telling me something is wrong. What is it?"

He looked solemn as he chose his words. "Rachel has…left Edoras."

"Was there a call for the First Marshal's eored?" I asked through gritted teeth, though I knew the answer.

He looked at me, those old eyes so full of pity. "No, Eomer, there was not."

"What did you say to her?" I growled.

"Only what I said to you. You cannot be wed to each other."

"That is where you are wrong, uncle," I sneered at him. I knew now that she had not told him of our union. "We have pledged our troth to each other. I bedded her the night before I left for Northhelm. That is a union you cannot break though excuses of tradition."

I had seen him grow frustrated over this situation, but never angry. Now his sick face fumed. "What have you done?"

"Where is she?" I asked.

He ignored my question. "You have ruined her innocence with your silly desires. Do you even want to be King, Eomer? Truly, this cannot be more important than the responsibility to your kingdom."

"I love her, uncle."

"So you would ruin any chance she has as a future bride?"

"She has pledged—,"

"No, Eomer!" Theoden shouted, standing from his throne. I had angered him to a point where his strength had returned. "She has gone. I know not where. This is your kingdom, boy. You would have it fall, and the House of Eorl crumble, for one woman? I think not. You will remember your place. She has chosen her path, one I respect. Now you must do the same. Forget her, Eomer. That is why she left."

I could not believe his words. I did not want Rohan to fall. Perhaps this was my way of distancing myself from a throne and title I did not want. But that could only be half-true. I did love Rachel. By the Valar, I would find her again. And if I knew anything to be certain it was this: the people would not want me as their King without her. They would not want a monster on the throne.

Theoden crumpled back into his chair. For the second time in a week, I left his hall without dismissal. In a fury of my own, I thundered through the corridors of Meduseld to Rachel's chambers.

Her bed was only half made and one of her dresses was thrown haphazardly on the floor. The door of her wardrobe was open and I walked over to inspect it. Most of her heavy winter furs were gone, as were her riding outfit and boots. The corner of the room where she kept equipment for long trips was bare. She had taken it all. Not her armor, though, which sat at the edge of the room. I felt a pang in my heart, noticing the helm I had made her remained behind. Then, a flash of light caught my attention.

My mother's ring sat on her vanity. While the helm had brought a pang, the sight of the ring not on her finger seemed to wrench it from my chest. I set her new journal on the table and picked up the small gold band with its simple jewel, wrapping my fingers around it, clenching a tight fist.

More than anything, I wanted an explanation from her. What was going on in her head that made her think this was what I wanted or that this was right? I looked out the window across the village. Where had she gone?

Ithilian. That is the only place that makes sense. She knew not where Claire was. No one did. We had not heard from her in five months. That left Kristen. They were the only family she had in this world. Where else would she go?

I wrenched the ring into my pocket and practically ran to the stables. Firefoot had had a long day of riding, but he would have to endure three more. He had not been unloaded of the supplies from the journey and I had not yet changed out of my winter traveling garb. I retrieved my steed from the stables, again noticing the absence of Windfola.

"What are you doing?" A voice behind me asked. It was Erkenbrand.

"Rachel has fled Edoras. I ride for Ithilian. She would be with her sister." Though I knew the three women were not of blood, everyone, including themselves, acknowledged that they were all each other had in the ways of family.

"What does the king say?"

"He would tell me not to go. That is why I do not ask his permission."

"Eomer, not two hours have we been home and the rumors have already reached my ears. Rachel fled, without telling anyone where she was going. She had stolen enough provisions from the kitchens to last her a week. They say Theoden rejected her from Meduseld."

"He did not reject her from Meduseld," I explained. "He forbade our troth."

Erkenbrand looked confused. "Like a daughter the king treated her. Why would he forbid this?"

"She is not of Rohirric blood. He does not believe the people would accept her as Queen, nor our children as future royalty and heirs."

"Why should that matter? Many an heir had wed women of Gondor in the past."

"Which is why I don't understand the king's rejection."

"So what do you plan to do?" he asked me. "Ride out to Ithilian and force her to return? She is as stubborn as you. You know that will not work."

I paused from packing Firefoot to look Erkenbrand in the eye. "Were she your Queen, would you accept her? Do you know any in the realm who would not?"

He seemed to grow nervous as I asked the question. "Surely not those in Edoras or the lands protected by her and the first eored. But the outer-lying towns and villages, I could see it a possibility, yes."

"Then it will take time," I concluded. "I will persuade her to simply come home. She has abandoned Elfhelm and the first eored. She will surely see her fault in that. Upon her return, I will make her see the love the people of this city hold for her."

Erkenbrand paused, a somber look on his face. "What if she doesn't want to be queen?"

"What if I don't want to be king?" I countered, mounting Firefoot. "I ride for Ithilian. I leave you as temporary Third Marshal of the Mark, my friend."

He grabbed Firefoot's reins, keeping me still. "I cannot lie, Eomer. I fear for your sanity in this moment."

His eyes were solemn and slightly scared. "I cannot lose her, Erkenbrand. Soon, I will lose my uncle and she will be the last thing I have on this earth. Not only this, but I have wronged her in bedding her before marriage. She cannot walk this earth thinking that I am that kind of man. I do not wish to save her, nor do I intend to force her to come back. But we cannot back away from our union without talking face to face."

He nodded, letting go of Firefoot's reins. I took off, the faces of Edoras peasants a blur as I passed them.

 _Please Review!_


	5. Fight

_Chapter 5: Fight_

 _Third Age 2030, February_

 _Twelve miles outside Aldburg, Rohan_

-Rachel-

Late into the night, my eyes started to droop even though I was dying to continue. The temperature dropped exponentially as we made it further east and later into the night. I had to travel out of my way to avoid Eomer in Northhelm, adding about half a day to my journey. But still I did not stop. The faster I got to Lothlorien, the faster I would make it to Claire. But Windfola could feel my shivering on her back as the wind bit through my furs at our speed. Soon, she found cover of some trees and stopped at their base.

"K-keep g-going," I shivered, kicking her sides. "I c-can't risk a f-fire. These lands aren't p-patrolled by Eoling-gas. I d-don't know what's out there."

But of course she ignored me. "St-tubborn Meara," I chipped, falling off her back. It had recently snowed in this part of the realm, but the trees had provided good cover in this area. Stubborn she may be, but Windfola knew how to take care of me.

Gritting through the cold, I managed to get the saddle and equipment off of her back so she could rest as well. I unrolled my sleeping cot in the most level area of the ground and started climbing inside the thick furs it was made out of, but behind me, Windfola neighed, grabbing my attention. She was nudging my pack that contained my flint. "I t-told you," I said. "I c-can't start a f-fire here. You w-wanted me to sleep. That's w-what I'm doing."

I climbed into the bedroll then, still as cold as I was outside of it. But soon, a giant mass of heat was beside me. Windfola had lay down beside me, the heat coming out from the skin beneath her coat. I nuzzled into her side. "Thank you, friend," I whispered before falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

Fire raged throughout the land. Homes of my friends burned to the ground. Horses from the stables had escaped and ran dangerously throughout the village, their hooves crushing anything that fell below their feet. Edoras fell in ruins all around me.

I spotted Elfhelm and Erkenbrand fighting at the parade of enemies that had closed in around the city. Orcs, goblins, and Wildmen all pillaged my home. "Why did she have to leave?" Erkenbrand called to my commander.

"She left because she is a coward," Elfhelm called back, slicing through an Orc. "We can't know what would be if she had stayed, anyway."

Erkenbrand took down a nasty-looking goblin. "Eomer would be alive, that's for sure."

Suddenly, the ground below me changed and the horror before my eyes was replaced by a more serene scene. I was in a cave, lit only by a single torch. Though I had never set foot in here, I knew where I was. The Tomb of Brego where every king and royal since Eorl's son had been buried deep into the cavern.

My bare feet glided over the dirt below until I stood in front of a familiar casket. Eowyn's body was below me. Instead of rotting through the decay of death, she appeared to be sleeping, her white dress glowing, making her golden hair shimmer. And beside her…

Eomer's body lay the same way, clad in his armor. His hair shinned like Eowyn's. They looked so much alike, this brother and sister. In his casket, wrapped beneath his right hand sat my helm, the dark hair of Theybrush's mane contrasting with his golden locks.

Suddenly, Eowyn's eyes opened, causing me to scream. "So much death you've caused, Rachel Collins. First me, then my brother. When will you stop making mistakes?"

* * *

The sound of thumping footsteps on the ground caused me to wake from the nightmare. The old pangs of Black Breath were apparent on my dominate hand, but I ignored its jabs. Long had I learned to control my reaction to the dreams, but it had been even longer since I had had a dream that powerful and vivid. I should have pretended to stay asleep, but the strangers in my campsite had noticed my change of breath.

Fast as lightning, I was out of the bedroll, drawing my bow at the first one who caught my eye. He had dark hair that fell in front of his eyes. A green cloak was wrapped around his shoulders like me, but his wasn't grand, nor from Elves.

"Mighty quick, this one," one of them said. "Didn't see that coming, did ya, Kelleth?"

"Shut up," I said, moving my bow to the one who spoke. He looked similar to the first one, down to the clothes. They could have been brothers. "What are you doing in my campsite?"

He looked surprised as I spoke. "A woman!" he exclaimed. Immediately, his demeanor changed from guarded to relaxed, like he nothing to fear. I laughed in my head. This guy had no clue who he'd encountered.

My scarf was ripped from my head, causing my hair to cascade down my shoulders. I felt a hand grab a fistful and a cold sting on my neck. Behind me, the heat of a body radiated through my furs. "Drop your bow," a low voice whispered. Damn it. How many of them were there? More importantly, who the hell were they? I lowered my weapon from the other man's head "That's a good girl," my captor whispered. "Alanric," he said in a commanding tone. The guy walked toward me and took the loaded bow from my hands. He reached down and took my sword from its sheath next. "Any more weapons?" my captor asked.

"None," I said. It was a lie, though. If Aragorn taught me anything, it was always keep a knife in your boot. His own knife left my throat then. "Where is my horse?" I demanded, whipping around and facing Knife-guy. Again, he looked so similar to the other two men. Somewhat familiar, now that I had a better look at this one's appearance, as he was facing the rising sun.

"Sit down on your cot," he said. "I shall ask the questions, girl."

The next thing I knew my fist met his face. No one talked to me like that, not even Elfhelm, unless it was a direct order during battle. But never would he call me _girl_.

The other guy, Alanric, tried to restrain my arms behind my back. Obviously, he didn't account for my size or strength. It was my greatest weapon in battle other than the bow, Elfhelm said. I was small enough to get out of holds easily, and the men that tried to restrain me did not anticipate such strength or glial from a woman. As his hands grabbed my wrists, I wrenched them from his grip, turning and grabbing his left arm. Using his own weight against him, I twisted his arm, and he cried in pain as his limb popped out from his shoulder, dislocating it.

Then, the third guy tried to get to me. I pulled my knife out from my boot and threw it at his shoulder, hitting the target. He doubled over in pain as I whistled loudly like Gandalf had taught me to. Windfola probably went out on a trot to bathe or something, but she always answered my call. I made to run in the opposite direction as the one I had punched—I assumed he was Kelleth—called, "Stop!" Of course I ignored him, but that was a bad call. I heard an arrow whish past my ear. Dammit. His aim was either really good or really bad and, honestly, I wasn't in the mood to find out which.

"Dunlending bitch!" Alanric called at me, holding his arm to his side. Dunlending?

"Shut it!" Kelleth yelled. I had definitely broken his nose. It hung from his face like melting wax as blood trickled from it. His eyes and steady aim—with my bow!—never left my face. "Get back over here," he ordered.

"Not with that tone. Ask nicely," I said in a teasing voice.

That pissed him off. I could see it on his face. I knew he wasn't gonna shoot me, though. He would have done it already. "I swear, girl, no harm will come to you," he promised, though he was greatly annoyed. "If you would please come back and sit on your cot," he forced out through his teeth.

I enjoyed his frustration, but I seemed to be in no immediate danger. Windfola would be on her way, anyway. Hopefully she would provide a big enough distraction that I could get my sword back and take back the high ground. I walked back to them and sat down on my furs. The morning air was frigid, but nowhere near as cold as last night.

I noticed guy number three grabbing the hilt of my knife to pull it out. "I wouldn't do that," I said to him. "Not unless you know how to cauterize it."

He looked at me with pain and confusion. "How to what?"

I smiled, then. As the responsible camp counselor I had once been, I knew first aid and wilderness survival treatment. No one in my adopted country had ever figured out that you could burn a deep wound shut. When I showed the healers back in Rohan, they were amazed. Of course it caused great pain, but it was effective. Stiches on a puncture wound could potentially turn to infection. With my methods, there was no way. "The knife is poisoned," I lied. "Only I know how to treat it."

Alanric scoffed, though I'm pretty sure most of it was him trying to hide a cry of pain. "Let's just kill her, Kelleth. She's dangerous and a liar."

"We can't kill her," the leader said, my bow still pointed at my face. "What if she doesn't lie? What if Trover dies?" Guy number three must be Trover.

"He won't die if you let me treat him," I said. He wouldn't die period, but I had to stall for Windfola.

Kelleth looked over me again before giving me a simple nod. "Save him," he said.

I pointed to Alanric. "Him first. He's easier and I'll need his help."

"You will not touch me, girl!" he yelled.

"Shut it, Alanric!" Trover said. "I can feel her poison spread." I resisted the urge to laugh. Moron.

Reluctantly, Alanric nodded and I walked over to him. "You try anything, girl—,"

"You'll what? Sit there and hold your arm?" I taunted. He positively shook with rage. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Kelleth smile. I bent down to Alanric and grabbed his wrist. He seemed determined not to show pain as I moved his arm. I rested my hand on the base of his shoulder, ready to pop it back in place. I wrenched it back and he screamed louder than when I dislocated it. Pussy.

After the jolt of pain, he gingerly was able to move the joint again. "Better?" I asked with a taunting smile.

He flashed me a look of hatred. "Wipe that smirk off your face, girl. You still have to save Trover."

"Right," I said, walking back to my cot and sitting down. "Go get firewood," I said to Alanric.

He fumed. "You little wench," he growled.

"What are you doing, girl?" Kelleth asked. He had lowered the bow slightly, but now it was back up on my face.

"I assume you want to keep that bow on my head. Can't do that safely if I'm in the forest gathering wood. Too easy to get away."

I thought he would tell me to shut up and get the wood myself, but instead, he lowered the bow and let out a loud guffaw of laughter. "This one's clever!" he said through the chuckling. "Go get the wood, Alanric. We all deserve a fire."

"What are you talking about?" Trover said, wincing when he moved.

"There is no poison in your shoulder, brother. She has simply been playing with time. Clearly, though, she is skilled in healing. We will light a fire as she fixes your wound."

Suddenly, Trover looked like he was in a lot less pain. Before I could say anything, he wrenched the knife from his shoulder.

" _Pe-channas_!" I yelled in Sindarin, running to his side and ripping off my gloves. The blood now flowed from below his garments. I grabbed the knife from his hand and sliced through his clothing to get to the wound. "Go get that firewood!" I yelled at Alanric. I expected him to argue, but he moved immediately.

I ripped the cloak off of Trover's shoulders and pressed the fabric into his wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. "I told you not to take it out," I said.

"How was I to know you meant it after your lies of poison," he said, leaning down.

"Get my cot," I said to Kelleth. He hesitated, bow in hand. "I'm not running away," I promised.

"She tells the truth, Kelleth," Trover said.

As Kelleth went to grab the bedroll, I couldn't help but laugh at Trover. "You thought there was poison running through your system minutes ago. How do you know I spoke the truth?"

"Now I know what you look like when you're lying. I'm good at picking up on that sort of thing."

Kelleth had dragged the cot over. "Get on the furs," I said. "This is gonna hurt. You'll want to be on something comfortable."

"What do you plan to do?" he said, wincing as she scooted onto the bedroll.

I lay his head on the pillow. "It's best I don't tell you."

Alanric was back with the wood. Without prompting, he began to light a fire.

"What is your name?" Trover asked.

"I'll not answer that," I said.

"Then may I ask why you are in the Mark? Why did you leave Dunland?"

Alanric had called me "Dunlending bitch" and suddenly I understood why. Rohirric people were typically blond with light-colored eyes. Sometimes red-headed. I was brunette with dark-brown eyes, the coloring of the people of Dunland, our more violent neighbors to the northwest over the Misty Mountains. Though, my skin was not as dark as theirs.

"I'm not from Dunland."

"You fight like you're from Dunland," he said.

"I suppose you won't tell us where you're from either?" Kelleth asked.

"Don't count on it."

"There, I have built your absurd fire," Alanric said. "Though, you still have not said why it was necessary."

"Do you have a sword?" I asked him.

"Of course I have a sword, girl," he snapped.

"Alanric," Kelleth said softly, like a short warning.

"She breaks your nose, almost breaks my limbs, and stabs Trover in the shoulder. We can tend to our brother. She does not need to."

"She has made a mistake. I am allowing her to rectify it."

"He's losing a lot of blood," I said. "Put the tip of your sword into the coals, Alanric," I instructed.

"Why must he do that?" Kelleth asked as his brother put his sword at the base of the flame.

"I'm going to cauterize the wound," I said. "It's the safest way to close the wound and keep out infection. And judging by how much you guys smell, I'm guessing your skin is pretty prone to infection in stitches."

"Where did you learn this technique?"

"My home," I answered simply.

"How hot must the blade be?" Alanric asked.

"Searing hot, but not red."

"That will take too long," he spat.

"Well, I can't sew up the wound until it stops bleeding anyway, so either we wait for the sword to get hot and save him the healthy way or we wait for the bleeding to stop to the point where he might pass out so I can stich him up. Your choice."

He bent back down over the fire and muttered something that was surely an insult to my womanhood. Prick.

Gingerly, I lifted the cloak off of Trover's shoulder. The wound still gushed blood. Thankfully, the cloak did a good job of keeping it inside his body.

I noticed something on his chest when I lifted the cloak. Like a black mark upon his chest. I moved his sliced shirt away from it revealing a tattoo of a six-pronged star. I gasped, my eyes shooting to Trover's. "The mark of the Dunedain!" I exclaimed. "You're a Ranger!"

"We all are," Trover mumbled.

"What are you doing in the Riddermark?" I asked.

Kelleth huffed. "You won't tell us your name or where you come from, yet you would ask us our own story? Hardly fair, girl."

"Hold this," I told him, taking my hand off of the cloak and reaching my least-bloody hand down the neck of my furs.

"What the blazes are you doing, girl?"

I grabbed the thin gold chain and tugged it off of my neck, holding it out to him. The same symbol tattooed on Trover's chest. Kelleth's eyes widened and Trover let out a breathy laugh. "I knew she couldn't be all that bad," he said.

"Where did you get this?" Kelleth asked me. Alanric was strangely silent.

"A Ranger named Strider gave it to me as a gift. Said if I ever needed help or refuge in the wild to show this to a Ranger and help would come my way."

Alanric's silence ended right there as he let out a laugh. "Strider?" he asked. "You hear that, brothers? The girl claims to have the favor of Strider himself. This girl doesn't know what she's talking about. Strider's name has circulated throughout all of Middle-earth since the war. Probably the name of the only Ranger she knows."

"Only half-true," I said. "He is the only Ranger I know."

"Tell us how you met then." Kelleth asked.

"King Aragorn Elessar and I fought in the war together. He gifted me this necklace in payment of my service."

"So you're from Rohan, then?" Trover asked. "Only Theoden allowed women to fight in his armies during the war."

"You served under Lady Rachel's legion?" Alanric asked.

"Yes," was all I could think to say.

"She lies again," Trover said. "Though she tells the truth about Strider's gift."

"Wait," Kelleth said, his eyes widening. "Your foreign accent, your odd coloring. You are Lady Rachel."

Shit.

I guess they took my silence as confirmation, because instantly, Alanric was on his feet. "My lady, I—I apologize for my behavior."

"We did not mean to attack you, my lady. Truly, there is an explanation to our actions."

"You know, it's none of my business. I obviously did more damage to you than you did to me." I wanted them to stop talking. The less they knew, the better. "That sword is probably ready now."

"Of course, my lady." I gritted my teeth at the title. Maybe, out here, I did prefer "girl".

Carefully, Alanric carried it over to the three of us. "Trover," I said, taking the sword in my hands. "This will be painful, but I swear it is necessary. Kelleth, on my count, remove the cloak. Alanric, Trover will need to stay as still as possible so you must hold him down." Alanric put his hands on his brother's shoulders. I looked at Kelleth, making sure he was ready. "One, two, three." The cloak lifted and I placed the searing hot metal in the still-bleeding wound.

Instantly, I knew I had made a mistake. Alanric's arm was still too weak to hold down Trover. Trover's natural instinct made him try to escape the blade and Alanric lost control. The blade slid down Trover's torso, causing the sword to burn a line down his skin. He screamed in pain, but Kelleth was quick. He took Alanric's place, holding down Trover's shoulders. "Finish it!" he cried.

I placed the sword back on Trover's wound and his flesh sizzled as he screamed in pain. I had only done this twice before, but those wounds had been from arrows, not knives. This one was bigger than I was used to.

Eventually, it was enough. I lifted the metal off of Trover's chest and tossed it into the snow. I jumped up and grabbed a handful of the white stuff. "Move all the fabric away from the burns," I cried. Kelleth did as I asked and I dropped the snow onto Trover's chest. He made noises of pain, but not nearly as intense as the last ones. I grabbed another handful and dropped it on the cauterized wound and sunk to the ground, utterly exhausted.

* * *

A/N: _Okay, I know three new characters is a lot to take in, but they're funny and great, I swear! I figure a lot of you are wondering about Eomer in Ithilian, and I want to point something out. Eomer and Rachel's timelines are not in sync yet. Eomer's POV is about three days give or take ahead of Rachel at this point, so that means he's still in Aldburg right now. Just wanted to clarify._

 **ananethel:** Thanks for following! Sometimes I feel like you're the only one reading my nonsense. **  
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	6. Condition

_Chapter 6: Condition_

 _Third Age 3020, mid-February_

 _Emyn Arnen, Ithilian, Gondor_

-Éomer-

Rachel knew I preferred Claire over Kristen. I found her Gondorian sister annoying and possessive. I didn't much care for her husband, Faramir, either. This I discovered at their wedding, when he asked why I had come, for I had not been invited. As princes of our respectful countries, I was insulted. Rachel tried to shove it off, but I held that grudge.

The gates of Ithilian were open and welcoming as I approached the city. I realized it was market day. Twice a month, Emyn Arnen, the main city, opened its gates to sell, trade, and buy goods. Rohan had the quarter market, four times a year instead of twice a month. Gondor had more citizens then Rohan, however. Their frequent markets were needed.

I pulled my cloak over my head to shield it from prying eyes as I rode my horse to the stables. I handed a teenage boy a coin to tend to Firefoot as I made my way through the city and up to the Prince's palace.

It was guarded by two soldiers I could have easily taken care of. I showed the one my face. "I've come to meet with the Lady of this land," I told him.

"I will alert Lord Faramir, Lord Éomer."

"I said I came to speak with the Lady," I said, growing impatient. By the Valar, I hated Ithilian.

"Lord Faramir should be informed of your arrival," the stubborn guard said.

I was about to ring his neck. He had no clue what I was feeling right now, and I would gladly take it out on him. But a high-pitched voice sounded from the balcony above. "Éomer?" It was Kristen.

"Tell these guards to let me through," I demanded.

She raised her eyebrows. Knowing her, I was about to get a speech on ordering her about in her home, but she simply said, "Let him through."

The stubborn guard opened the door then and I entered the palace. Luckily Faramir was not there, but Kristen emerged from the staircase a moment later. "What happened?" she asked, looking exasperated and worried. "Where's Rachel?"

Damn it all. "She's not here?" I asked.

Kristen looked confused. "No. Why would she be here?" I turned from her small form, slamming my fist against a column. "Are you trying to break my house?"

"You have not heard from her in the last six days?" I asked. "She has not been here?"

Her tone turned back to worry. "Is she missing?" I did not answer. "Éomer," she pleaded. "What the hell is going on?"

I had not the heart to tell her what I had done, nor did I feel like I could blame this on Thèoden. I also did not want Kristen to fret over this. She could worry like no other. I had never met a more paranoid soul. "She is…not missing," I said, choosing my words carefully. "She fled from Edoras six days ago, telling no one where she went."

"It took you six days to tell me this!"

I turned back on her, my temper flaring. By Bema, this woman brought out the worst in me. "I was not in Edoras when she departed. I rode here within the hour of finding it out myself. I have had very little sleep and food these last two and a half days. Do not use your harsh tones with me."

"Éomer," a male voice said. I did my best to breathe through the frustration. Faramir was in the hall now. Though there were only the two of them here, it was too much. "We were not expecting you."

"Faramir," I nodded. I had no need to talk to the lord of this city. In fact, I had gained the information I sought. Rachel was not here. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Kristen. I will depart."

"Woah," she exclaimed, grabbing my sleeve and pulling me back. I looked down at this woman whose height barely passed my elbow. Where did she get this strength? "You're not going anywhere until you fill me in, horse-dude!"

I groaned at her repulsive nickname. Truly, I was too informal with this couple. "It is my business, Kristen. I shall keep it to myself."

She turned to her husband and pointed at the staircase. "You, out," she ordered.

"What?" he asked.

"You know he doesn't like you," she said. Kristen had a tendency to talk about me as if I wasn't there. It was even more annoying when she and Rachel did it together.

Faramir left the room, nodding me a farewell. We remained cordial to each other based on the fact Rachel and Kristen were sisters. It was a mutual agreement.

"Now tell me what the hell happened," she demanded.

So I did, sitting down in one of the chairs in the hall. I told her everything that had transpired over the last week, leaving out the part where we made love, but not the part where we pledged troths. "Did you have sex?" she asked, bluntly. What was it with these so-called American women? Where they all as comfortable with losing innocence? Claire did not strike me so, but I did not know her quite as well as Kristen, unfortunately.

"I…bedded her on the night of our betrothal, yes," I admitted through gritted teeth.

Kristen let out a large sigh. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

"I knew of the other man, Nick. We had no secrets."

"Nick?" she asked, surprised. "Gods, what a tool. Of course, without his help, Rachel wouldn't have found out."

"Excuse me?" I asked. She had caught me off guard. "What are you talking about, Kristen?"

She took a deep breath. "I guess it's my turn to tell you a story," she said, sinking back into her chair. "I'm sure, if you and Rachel were engaged, she would have told you about this sooner than later. She's pretty big on no secrets in relationships. Probably for this reason, actually."

I hated how she rambled. "Tell me what you mean," I said, trying with all my might to sound patient.

"So, when we were in high school, that's like fifteen, sixteen years-old. I can't remember exactly how old we were. It was years ago, but it was one of those. Anyway, his guy, Nick Wallace, he was a grade below us, but he was about a month older than Rachel. He was one of the most attractive guys in our school. Long hair, tall, basically Rachel's type all rolled into one. He was dating another girl, two years older than him and two grades above us."

"You know, I don't understand half of your terminology," I informed her.

"It doesn't matter. You can still follow the story. You're a smart guy. Anyway, the day came when Ally, that was the other girl, broke up with Nick. They…ended their courtship, I guess you would say. Rachel…for lack of a better word, pounced on her opportunity with Nick. And he basically led her on."

"'Led her on'?"

"Um, courted her without intention of...keeping her, I guess," Kristen tried to explain. "He basically used her as a placeholder. Something to do with his time while he waited for Ally to come crawling back."

"And he took her innocence?" I asked. Things were starting to make sense now. How she was so informal with sex and why her self-control had been weaker than mine. It was her way of finding out if I truly loved her, or was just using her as a "placeholder" like this Nick had.

"Yeah, he did. And that's when Rachel found out."

"There is more to this story?"

Kristen nodded. "Rachel never had…regular periods." She gave me a look asking if I understood what she meant.

"I understand moon-bloods," I said.

"Right. So, her's have never been regular, like they were supposed to be. She didn't think anything of it when her period didn't come for three months. But by the third, I started to worry." She gave me another one of her looks. "Rachel told you about the medical advancements of our world, right?"

"She has taught me many things in the ways of healing, yes."

"Cool. So, one of those advancements are pregnancy tests."

"How does it work?" I asked.

"You pee on a stick and it tells you if you're pregnant," she said. That sounded rather fanatical to me, but then again, I had fallen in love with the girl from another world. "So she took the test and it was negative, but we still weren't convinced. I went with her to the doctor—err, healer—and she had some tests done." Kristen's eyes turned sad now. "Rachel has what our world calls Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. To put it in the simplest terms, it is incredibly difficult for her body to carry a baby. The chances of her conceiving are not impossible, but very small. My guess is, she never thought about having children with you, at least not yet. Rachel doesn't really think about those kind of things. She lives in the moment. But when she figured out you needed an heir, I'm guessing that was the last straw. She probably could never give you one and your royal line would be gone. She couldn't do that to you, Éomer. She loves you too much."

There were still more secrets. I wondered what else had not been spoken between us. I watched her small sister wait for my reaction. "This changes nothing," I said. "She should have told me, but I can't help how I feel about her. This is what I have tried to explain to everyone around me. My feelings for her have haunted me since the day we first spoke." A sudden wave of affection rolled through me for the small creature sitting across from me. I took her hand in my own. "I know we do not get along, but I would be so proud to call you my sister."

She looked a little startled. "Yeah, um. You too, man." Gently, she removed my hand. "So, what will you do now?"

I ran a hand through my long hair and down my face. I needed a shave. I knew Rachel did not like the beard, so I shaved much more regularly this last year. "I suppose I will return to Rohan after receiving this news. I cannot abandon my post as Third Marshal and heir. Rachel would not see that as valiant, only foolish. I will send out riders to track her down and convince her to return. Thèoden told me the people would not accept her as their queen, but I believe him to be wrong. Perhaps it is time for me to execute some of those political duties."

She smiled, pleased with my decision. "But, when you find her, you will send news, right?"

"Of course," I agreed, standing up. "Thank you for telling me these things."

"Oh, and there's something you need to tell her, from me. Though, I think our previous conversation may put a damper on this news," she said, rubbing her arm with the opposite hand.  
"What is it?"

She grinned sheepishly. "I'm pregnant."

I was surprised again as another wave of affection rolled through me. Rachel was to have a niece or nephew. "Congratulations, Kristen. This is happy news indeed."

She hesitated before asking her next question. "What if Rachel can't give you an heir?"

I sighed. "I will heed that call when the time comes."

* * *

A/N: _My semester is officially over! Thank the Valar for Christmas break! Anyway, quite the shock for you guys, I bet. Now, I don't know if you actually care or not, but I would like to explain Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome in the most simplest way I can._

 _In a woman's ovaries, she produces cysts which are caused by hormones, namely testosterone. Normally, they fall off and exit the body through periods, but if a woman suffers from a hormonal imbalance of testosterone, there is a chance the amount of cysts can increase exponentially, causing what is known as a "pearl necklace" to form in the ovaries. Because of the excessive amount of cysts on the ovarian wall, some cases of PCOS leave the ovaries damaged and hard for eggs to latch on as they should. This is what causes low fertility rates and a greater chance of miscarriage. Other symptoms also include irregular menstrual cycles, excessive hair growth, difficulty in losing weight, and acne. PCOS is typically treated with estrogen-fueled birth control contraception pills, which, of course, are unavailable to Rachel in Middle-earth._

 _Not all cases of PCOS cause this kind of infertility, but it does happen. In light of Sweden's new study on PCOS, I thought I would bring a little light to the condition. It is not pretty, but, luckily, it is a condition that is safe to live with._

 _I'm sorry if that was a bit to technical and graphic, but I felt an explanation was in order._

 _As always, I am anxious about how my readers will react to the curveballs I throw. Sorry no Ranger brothers in this chapter, but I promise we will hear from them next time!_

 _Please Review!_

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 **Tibblets** : _I'm glad your enjoying the story!_

 **adanethel** : _Glad you like the brothers! And Rachel is quite the badass when it comes to to taking them on. Unfortunately, she struggles with her confidence to be the person Rohan would need her to be as wife to the heir. Have no fear in my continuing, though. I have no intent to stop anytime soon. ;)_

 _Please Review!_


	7. Market

_Chapter 7: Market_

 _Third Age 3020, February_

 _Aldburg, Rohan_

-Rachel-

I sat around the large fire with the three Rangers. I had put Alanric's arm in a sling, wrapped up Trover's chest in a cooling salve and bandages, and set Kelleth's nose. "Again, boys, I'm really sorry about the misunderstanding,"

"Please stop apologizing, Lady Rachel," Kelleth said. "There was fault on both sides. I believe we have cancelled it all out. And you have more than made up for it with this generosity of food."

They had explained that they had been without food for two days. All the plants were barren and animals were in hibernation. They thought I was a traveler headed to the quarterly market in Aldburg. They had been leaving my camp when they realized I didn't have the provisions for that kind of trip, but I had attacked, thinking them to be bandits. "I just feel bad, is all. Sometimes I get overly cautious when traveling by myself."

"As a woman should. Many unkind men roam the outskirts looking for exactly the opportunity you speak of."

"We don't mean to pry, my lady," Trover said, taking another bite of the stew I had made. "But I can't help wondering why you are not in Edoras with Lord Éomer. You are his consort, are you not? Would he allow you to leave?"

"Whether his consort or not, Lord Éomer does not have the authority to make me do anything beyond the battlefield. He is not king yet. But as of late I am…no longer his consort," I admitted. The men looked shocked.

"This is none of our business," Alanric said. "Forgive our brother."

"No, it's fine," I said. "It would probably be good to talk about it to someone other than my horse."

Kelleth smiled. "You speak of a steed, yet we have not seen one. I believe your beast may have run off. Why did you not tie it down?"

"Windfola is half-Meara. She is not meant to be tied down." I let out another whistle.

"Did Gandalf teach you how to do that?" Trover asked.

I nodded. "Do you know the Wizard?"

"We met him a few times traveling along the outskirts of the Shire. Tis one of his favorite places to visit."

"That's another question of mine," I said. "Rangers typically occupy the north, save the ones in Ithilian, so what are you doing so far south in the Riddermark?"

"We are on our way back North. We had a message for King Elessar." Alanric explained.

I wondered what the message was, but it was best not to pry. Lucky for me, Trover didn't care. "The message was from Lady Claire Elliott," he said.

Instantly, I couldn't contain my curiosity, even though the other two brothers were now berating Trover. "You guys know Claire? Where is she? What was the message?"

Alanric looked pissed at his brother. Kelleth less so, but not happy. "We know you are friends with Claire, Lady Rachel, but she specifically meant for the message to be delivered to King Elessar."

"She's my sister!" I shouted. "What if I had a secret about one of you and refused to tell the other two?"

"That is different, my lady—," Kelleth started to say before Trover cut him off.

"She is staying at the Prancing Pony Inn at Bree and had been invited to attend the union of Samwise Gamgee and Rosie Cotton. She feared the timing of the wedding would leave her unable to meet her six month deadline in Ithilian."

"By the Valar, Trover, I will cut out your tongue," Alanric threatened.

"Why would you deliver the message to Aragorn and not Kristen or Faramir?" I asked.

"Tis not our place to say!" Kelleth said, glaring at Trover. _If looks could kill_ flashed through my mind. "My lady, we swore to Claire we would not utter her secret to anyone other than King Elessar. If you wish to ask her yourself, we are headed in that direction, back to our kin. You may accompany us, if you so wish."

I looked between the three brothers. I did not trust them, despite the care I had giving in repairing the wounds I had caused, but I had to admit I did not know the way. I had never traveled further north than the edge of Fanghorn Forrest, nor further west than Dunland. I knew the south quite well, but that would certainly do me little good. Anyway, wasn't the point of this trip to find Claire? I was headed to Lothlorien because that's where I knew her to be last. I had not seen her since the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen, but these men had. "I will accompany you to Bree," I said to the men.

Kelleth nodded. "If the weather fares in our favor, it should take no more than two weeks to reach Rivendell. We had been planning on visiting the Elves for a week of rest. It will be another week of travel before we reach Bree."

I nodded at the three men. "When do we leave?"

"We had planned on attending the quarter market in Aldburg to purchase horses and provisions. Our own steeds had been spent after traveling through all of December and January. We left them in Minas Tirith. We can leave as soon as your supposed horse shows up."

Impatiently, I stood and whistled again, but she had heard me this time. Windfola came through the trees of the small wood, looking rejuvenated after her day alone. "Where the hell have you been?" I asked her. She only tapped her nose onto my face.

I turned back to the men. "I cannot be seen in Aldburg. I can't have anyone knowing my whereabouts."

"I wish you would tell us what transpired between you and the Third Marshal," Trover said, giving Winnie a pat.

"Maybe someday," I said.

"Do you know anyone in Aldburg?" Kelleth asked.

"No, actually. I haven't been there in about eight months. It doesn't fall under the first eored's protection."

"Then I don't see why you can't accompany us. You can keep your hood up and we will not call you by name or title."

"What will you call me, then?"

He studied me a minute. "Rhilen," he said. I raised my eyebrow. "It means—,"

"I know what it means. _Pedin edhellen_." (I speak Sindarin)

He chuckled. " _Amin nauth_." (I thought so)

Trover and Alanric looked confused. "My brothers do not speak the Elvish tongue," Kelleth said. "It means 'shining over man'. She bested us so easily, boys. I think she deserves the title."

Trover seemed to like it a lot better than Alanric. Hell, Trover seemed to like me better than Alanric did. With that, my new companions and I set out on our journey.

Aldburg was the second largest city in Rohan, behind Edoras. In fact, one could say that they were the only two cities in Rohan. There were many villages scattered around the Mark, but the quarterly markets were held at these locations. I loved the quarterly market. It was my favorite day back in Edoras. This would have been my third quarterly market and the first where Éomer and I would be separated. I knew my companions did not understand my hesitation in attending the market for this reason of nostalgia, but if we were to make the journey to Rivendell, we would need horses.

It was midday when we reached the city, and to no surprise, it was extremely crowded.

"Should we split up, or tackle the hoards together?" I asked.

"Perhaps we should not split," Alanric suggested. "There are many people. More than I had expected."

I tried to enjoy the market like the brothers were, but I didn't have it in me. Trover tried to buy me a candied apple, but I waved him off. "Do you not have a favorite stall?" he asked, taking a large bite.

"I fear my favorite stall would serve little purpose in lowering my defenses. I shouldn't be near the people of Rohan now."

"No one can see your face, Rhilen," Kelleth said. "You have very little to fear, but we will not have much pleasure on the trip to Rivendell that awaits us. Please do not stifle our joy. Now tell us your favorite stall."

I smiled weakly. "The book stalls have always been my favorite."

"To the book stall, then!" Trover yelled, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the said stall.

"Beautiful winter's day," the vendor greeted us.

"To you as well," I replied. "I do hope your business has been well this market?"

"Tis always a good day when the Riders are in town."

"The Riders?" Alanric asked, my stomach sinking.

"Why yes, lad. The third eored, I believe, took down the last Orc party roaming the outskirts just last night. They shop for gifts for their families before returning to the capital. Why, here's one now!"

I stood completely still. Random vendors from outlying villages would not recognize my face, that was certain. But members of Éomer's eored would. I served with them for two months. Many were my friends.

"Rhilen, there is a food stall over there," Kelleth said darkly. "We should not linger."

I felt Alanric's grip on my shoulder lead me away from the stall. "Do not look back just yet," he whispered in my ear.

When we were at what they judged to be a safe distance, I turned back. A tall figure stood at the stall, grasping a purple book. His blond hair fell past his broad shoulders and under his arm was a helm baring a horse-mane of white color. Éomer.

I ran from the market square. Surely there were more Riders here. I had to get away. The pain of what I had selflessly done had resurfaced and I felt the spasms of breathing coming back. Seeing him was something I did not expect. I found Windfola where I left her and jumped on her back, riding to the edge of the village. The boys would find me here.

I hugged my horse tightly from the saddle, though she protested slightly. I remembered suddenly why I needed Claire in this moment. I wasn't equipped to deal with this. I needed the comfort of one I loved. I so desperately wanted to run back to Éomer now and let him hold me in his arms while I cried, telling him of the things Thèoden had said to me. I wanted to tell him about my condition and why I felt that I had done the necessary thing. But I knew if I went back now, he would never let me leave. And he would resent me for it forever.

"Rhilen!" I heard a voice calling. It was Kelleth. "Rhilen, why did you flee?"

"Did you not see him?" I asked, mustering up the will to stop this insane hyperventilation. "He could have seen my face then all my efforts would have been in vain."

"Your efforts at what?" he asked, exasperated. "You ask me to understand, yet you have explained nothing. Why do you flee from the Third Marshal? You must tell me. My brothers are not here. They are still at the market purchasing the horses. It is just I. Please, Rhilen. Tell me what transpired between you and the Marshal that makes you weep so."

I hopped off Winnie and slumped against a nearby tree. "I left him," I said. "He cannot be with me for the good of this kingdom. I am not right for its throne, nor am I deserving of such titles."

I felt his arms wrap around me. It was strange, his informality. Truly, only Aragorn or Legolas showed me this kind of intimacy outside of my courtship. "There is more to your story," he mumbled into my hood. "Please, Rhilen, I do not wish for you to be burdened with secrets."

I felt the tears start to fall from my eyes at his insistence and his arms tightened as I shook. "I cannot bear him an heir," I admitted. "My body is incapable and for that reason, I would be the fall of this kingdom."

"And you have not told him this," he said. "You left your home at the Golden Hall, this secret a burden on your shoulders."

"He would not care," I said. "He would keep me despite my condition. I cannot let him choose between me and the good of the Riddermark."

"You truly love this land, don't you?" he said. I nodded, the furs covering my head scraping against his chest.

"Kelleth!" I heard Alanric call. I felt the eldest Ranger's arms tighten momentarily before dropping them and backing away from me. His brothers were back now, with new horses and our purchased provisions strapped to the sides of the beasts.

"Forgive me, Lady Rachel," Kelleth said, looking pissed at his middle brother. "But you were right about entering the city. I do not wish to ruin your attempts to hide from those who would know your face. I did not expect Riders to occupy the market, especially the Third Marshal. Nor did I mean to invade your personal space. Please, forgive me."

"All is well," I said, grabbing Winnie's reigns. "We mustn't linger. The sooner we depart, the sooner we shall make it to Rivendell."

 _Please Review!_


	8. Secrets

_Chapter 8: Secrets_

 _Third Age, 3020, February 21_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Éomer-

The king was not happy with me upon my return, but he was in too weak a state to chastise me.

Eight days. She had eight days of a head start on me. I sat down at the desk in my room, scrawling names of destinations on a paper. Minas Tirith, Mirkwood, the Shire. All places I knew her to have acquaintances and friends. I cursed the fact that all of her friends never seemed to stay put in one location. Always on the move, they were.

But as I pondered this, something occurred to me. I had expected her to run to Kristen, but she had not done so. She knew me too well and knew I would look for her there. For this first time I wondered if, perhaps, she didn't want to be found. Kristen's tale of Rachel's past brought out a new light to the story. Perhaps she thought I would not want her if she couldn't provide the kingdom with a future king. But no, she would not think that. She knew my heart too well.

She loved Rohan. Its rolling hills, its people, and its wild horses. The thought entered my mind that perhaps she did not run for my benefit. Perhaps it was for the benefit of the country she so cherished.

She should not have to leave it for these reasons. She deserved to live her life in the realm she loved and I loved her enough to give her that. I looked at my list. Perhaps I did not need to guess where she had gone. I stood and walked out of Meduseld and into the village. A larger house on the edge of town was my destination. I knocked on the door.

Erkenbrand answered. "Éomer," he greeted, stepping aside so that I could enter. I slumped into one of his cushioned chairs. "I take it she wasn't in Ithilian."

"I must find her, Erkenbrand. Kristen has informed me of a harsh truth, one that I believe is the reason she felt the need to leave. But she need not leave her home. I could not ask that of her. Too much has gone unsaid. She must be brought back to Edoras."

"You want me to track her," he said.

"I would not ask this of you in the dead of winter, my friend, but I fear I must."

"She rides Windfola. Tis hard to track a horse that is half-Meara."

"If anyone can do it, it is you, Erkenbrand. Please, find her. I would go myself, but the king is now bedridden. I cannot abandon my duties. She would not want that."

He sighed and stood up. "That's the most sensible thing you've uttered in a week," he said. "I'll pack Frost and leave at dawn. I do not wish her to be gone from my life, either."

I clasped his shoulder then. "Thank you, my friend."

I met him hours later in the stables with food from the kitchens, bidding him farewell. It pained me to ask someone to do this task in my place, but I could not abandon Rohan like Rachel feared I would.

I walked back up to the Golden Hall, somewhat more hopeful than I had left it. I wandered the halls before finding myself back in her chambers. Someone had been in here to clean up in the week I had been absent. I sat on her bed, fingering the clean sheets we had lain on together. It had been many moons since I had engaged in activities of that nature and I feared I did not go as long as I could have with her, my need for release coming much faster than I had anticipated. I could picture her arching back like it had been that night. So full of pleasure we had been. The cleanliness of this room seemed to erase our tryst from that night.

I stood up from the bed and grabbed a journal from her shelf. Often, she let me read her stories. Most were silly recollections from childhood stories, but I enjoyed reading them. She had great skill with the pen, having studied it in her former life. The one I held was one of the few she had not pushed into my hands. She never forbade me from reading, but with some, she was more hesitant than others. This white-covered book was one of them. I opened to the first page. " _My Mom_ ," I read.

 _No one in any world had been luckier than I in terms of mothers. Cindy Collins was a gem amongst rocks. I remember the first time I realized that there were people who didn't like her. They didn't like her boldness or forwardness. They didn't like how she would rather tell the truth then spare you with a soft lie. They didn't like that she was smarter than them._

 _These were my favorite things about her and I think they are the things that rubbed off on me. Éomer says that I have a tendency to insult the men with my boldness, but I swear I don't mean to. If only all senses of humor were the same, then Mom and I wouldn't have these problems._

 _I wonder what she's doing now. I don't like to think about what she and my family have been doing since I went missing. I try to think of it like I was on a vacation and they had very little to worry about. I imagine at this time of day, she's heated up one of Dad's leftovers in the microwave at work and is eating it slowly at her desk, her mind on nothing but her computer screen and the work that needed to be done._

I had reached her strange other-world technologies and had difficulty in deciphering what she was trying to dictate. I flipped through the pages, trying to find something about her time in this world when I spotted my name.

 _I rode out to a large plain with Éomer today. He had brought blankets and a picnic. I loved Edoras, but I loved getting out of the city with him more. Not often were we able to do this kind of thing. Hilda had nearly caught us and I know I'm going to get an earful of "proper court etiquette" and "you can't know how people talk" in a few minutes. But she's wrong. I'm well aware of how people talk. I've dealt with gossiping mouths and judgmental eyes my entire life._

 _But the fact of the matter is, I don't care what people have to say. Moments like the ones he and I share together are the only reason I'm able to stay sane in this world. He keeps me alive._

 _I haven't told him of Claire's attempts to find a safe way home. I don't want to leave, but I miss certain things about home. Mostly my family. In fact, only my family. I would give up running water and television forever if it meant I could stay here and still see my family. I don't want to tell any of this to Éomer. I don't know if he could understand._

 _Sometimes I wish that the court and the army and his stupid nobility did not exist. I wish it wasn't a crime for a woman to have a sex drive. I don't think he understands that I'm allowed want him as well. Laying on the blankets in the sunlight, not another soul around for miles and still he wouldn't have me. I could feel his erection against my leg, but he still held his guard. I want to tell him about the PCOS. If his fears are about getting me pregnant, then he's got nothing to worry about._

 _But if I can't bring myself to tell him about the PCOS, maybe I'm not ready to sleep with him after all._

I shut the book then. This was obviously not for my eyes. Though I wanted to know her secrets, I could not gain them by being a snoop. She had to give them to me herself. That was her right.

* * *

 _Third Age 3020, February 21_

 _Just north of Fanghorn Forest_

 _The base of the Misty Mountains_

-Rachel-

The storms hit. Seven days into our journey we had managed to reach the base of the Misty Mountains. We traveled along the edge for two days before the bitter cold hit, dropping the temperatures so low that the very wind that ripped at our faces caused our features to freeze. The snow fell in thick bulbs, gathering into snowballs before it even hit the ground.

"We cannot travel in this!" Alanric said. "Windfola might be able to take it, but our own horses can't. We must find shelter."

It took us about an hour to find a cave large enough for the four of us and our horses. It was a massive cave and it had been by the grace of the Valar we had found it so soon.

"How close are we to Moria?" I asked nervously, looking around the cavern.

"I can't say for sure," Kelleth said, pulling the saddle off of his horse. "But I would guess at least a three days ride in good weather to reach the east entrance."

I nodded, feeling better that we were far away from that place. I pulled the saddle off of Winnie. "There is no cause for weather like this, ever," I said, dropping the tack off to the side with Kelleth's.

"I fear it will delay our travels, my lady," Alanric said.

"It is no matter, so long as we all stay safe," I said, even though I wanted desperately to keep moving. I gathered bits of wood that were strewn at the edges of the cavern and built a measly fire.

"Trover," I heard Alanric call as I sat down. "The lady's fire will not last long without proper wood. Keep your furs on, let us gather some from outside."

I didn't like caves. It reminded me of Helm's Deep one year ago. My first battle had not been one I liked to dwell on. As Trover and Alanric left the cave, I sat in front of my meek fire, removing my gloves, then my cloak and scarf from my head, letting my hair fall down my shoulders. I hadn't bathed in over a week and is came down in greasy flops. The only thing that kept me from being self-conscious about my smell was the fact that there was no way I could smell as bad as my three companions. I threw the stenched locks over my shoulders with a sigh.

Kelleth chuckled. "Do you not like your hair?"

"My lady's maid back in Edoras refused to let me cut it. When I first came to Middle-earth, it didn't even pass my shoulders. She loved that I was a soldier, but she didn't want me to be a brute. She would say when I was at court I needed to act like a lady and ladies grew their hair long and beautiful."

He sat down beside me. "Would she often scold you for this?"

"More than you could imagine."

"I can't imagine you having a lady's maid."

"I didn't want one at first, but I came to find that Hilda was more than a servant. She was the closest thing I had to a mother in this world." I paused, not wanting to admit this next part. "When I fled Edoras, I had yelled at her. Dismissed her very rudely. I didn't apologize before I left. It is my biggest regret."

I could tell there was something he wanted to say. I had told him my secret which had created something of a bond between us that I did not share with his brothers. He was so easy to talk to.

"How old is the Third Marshal?" Kelleth asked.

"Twenty-nine. Seven years my senior." I figured he was wondering my own age, but thought it impolite to ask.

"Same as Alanric," he mused. "Do you have siblings, my lady? Of your own blood, I mean."

I leaned back on the palms of my hands. I didn't like talking about my family. I had filled countless journals back in Edoras with memories, but I had intended them for my eyes only, and Éomer's, if he were to ask. But perhaps, in this cave with this man, I would share part of my tale. "I have a younger brother, though I do not speak of him often."

"I did not mean to pry. I know your home is far away and unreachable. Claire has told us a few tales."

"I do not mind your questions. It's just that I tend to get homesick when I talk about it. Talking about my brother is hard, though. Harder than talking about anything else."

"You do not have to share if you do not wish. I was merely curious."

"His name was—is—Dylan. He's two years younger than me and a hell of a lot smarter. I grew up my whole life resenting him and I didn't realize it until he was lost to me. I always wanted an older brother. I would see girls with older brothers and get jealous that they had someone to watch over them. Younger brothers don't watch over older sisters. We argued often and differed in opinions and lifestyle choices. He was always more social, smarter, better looking. I found myself not only jealous of girls with older brothers, but I envied the ease of life my younger brother had."

"What changed when he became lost to you?"

"When I first got here to this land, very few people understood why I felt the need to fight like a man or ride like a man. None of them understood that wanting to fight and ride was not a desire to be a man, but to be myself. I was not one to sit by idly while strangers died for my safety. I didn't intend to start a female revolution. That's just what happened. I've never been one to stick to the rules. I've certainly never been one who cared what other people thought of me."

"And your brother was the same way?"

I let out a snort. "Are you kidding? He's the complete opposite. No, that's not how I landed my epiphany. I realized I was doing exactly what he would have done had he been in my situation. He would have learned new skills quickly and partaken in the war. And he would have been able to do it with much more ease than I, being a man." I paused then, trying, with difficulty, to picture my brother after not seeing his face for so long. "I took what would have surely been his advice, had he given it to me. It would have been the first time in my life I would have done that. There has never been a truer saying than 'you never know a good thing you've had until you've lost it'. I wish he knew how much I loved him."

Kelleth sighed, adding a few twigs to our dwindling fire. "That is a sad story, my lady. I know it must have been painful for you to recollect those details. I thank you for your trust in telling me this."

"I've only ever talked about Dylan to Éomer before," I admitted.

"Then that makes the trust even greater." We sat in silence for a moment longer. "I know you want to ask me Claire's secret again," he continued. "And I want to tell you, my lady, but it is not my secret to give."

I nodded. "I understand. I can wait until Bree, don't worry."

He looked outside at the plundering snowfall. "This storm will delay the trip by days, I'm afraid."

"Plenty of time to tell more secrets, I'm sure," I joked. We both laughed as Alanric and Trover returned.

* * *

 _A/N: Happy Holidays dear readers! As one who celebrates Christmas, I'd like to gift you this advanced chapter! And what could be a better reciprocation than a review! ;)_

 _Yes, I know, I'm a review slut._

 _And, as a side note, Rachel and Eomer's timelines are in sync now, so no more confusion. Yay! And now that I actually have the dates worked out, I've realized Rachel left Eomer on Valentine's Day...which kind of hurts me a bit...  
_

* * *

 **adanethel** : _This whole book is full of emotions, I'm afraid. It's just gonna keep going and going. I have a feeling you're gonna love it, though!_


	9. Sitting

_Chapter 8: Sitting_

 _Third Age, 3020 February 21-28_

 _The Misty Mountains_

-Rachel-

We were in the cave for a week. Only for a few hours at most did the storm stop in that time. I thought of the last February I spent in Rohan. It was nothing compared to this. Then I remembered that I'm not in Rohan anymore. We had crossed the border into Dwarf territory. That made me think of Gimli and I grew sad that I hadn't seen my Dwarf friend in a long while.

By the third day, Alanric grew restless. "'Twas not a fair fight, my lady," he said to me after our meager lunch. "For I underestimated you."

"Underestimating my skill does not make the fight unfair," I challenged. "On the contrary, it simply makes you the weaker fighter to misjudge your opponent."

He didn't like that. "Perhaps we can duel it out right here, my lady. If you are as good with a blade as you say you are, then you have nothing to fear," he taunted.

"I never said I was good with a blade," I countered. "Hand-to-hand combat, yes. Spear? I am decent upon horseback. The bow? You have no chance. But the sword is my weakest weapon. I have not studied it long, though I have had excellent teachers."

"Careful, brother," Kelleth teased. "My nose has only just stopped throbbing."

"We will spar with swords, not fists," Al said, turning back to me. "Unless the lady is too scared."

I rolled my eyes. "You will not wound my pride by taunting me."

"Perhaps you should spar him, my lady," Trover said. "Shut out his own pride."

I looked between the three of them and even Kelleth looked curious. With a sigh, I walked over to my things, pulling my sword from its sheath. Edoras's blacksmith, had forged it for me upon my return to Edoras for my induction to the riders. He had named the blade _Lainmaethor_ , meaning "Free Warrior". Al chuckled, pulling out his own. "I will try not to hurt you, my lady. I would hate to waste the medical suppli—," I cut him off, thrusting my sword at his face. His reflexes were excellent as he blocked it well. It was his turn to jab and I parried it with some difficulty. His strength was far greater than my own. Good reflexes and strength, I noted. It was important for me to gather his greatest skills. It made finding where he was weak much easier. A few more clangs of the swords and I realized he did not block his legs as well as his upper body. This was a common occurrence in sword fighting. I started aiming for his legs, hoping to send a small gash through his body. He needed the humility. But my overconfidence got the best of me. He saw right through my plan and the next thing I knew, my sword was on the other side of the cave, his own blade at my throat, a cocky grin on his face.

"I told you I wasn't that good," I said.

Al removed his sword. "You did lose, but you are quite skilled. Who are these teachers you speak of?"

"Aragorn and Legolas taught me during the war, along with Erkenbrand, one of the Riders. Éowyn, the White Lady was my first teacher, though." Like always, my heart fell when I thought of my dead friend. I picked up _Lainmaethor_ and put it back in the sheath.

* * *

Day six brought on the day of the great stench. "That is it!" I said to my companions. "We are literally living in a cave of horse manure. I have not bathed in two weeks. We will develop some kind of disease if we don't wash ourselves."

Al chuckled. "My lady, we shovel out the manure."

"I have lived amongst the most disgusting soldiers in all the Mark, but I swear on Bema, none of them smelled as bad as you three. I am leaving the cave for two hours. When I return, I will be clean. Please do yourselves the same curtesy."

"And how will you bathe, my lady, when snow falls from the sky and the wind whips so fiercely?" Trover asked.

"I have ways," I said, grabbing a bag of supplies, my knife, and a bucket.

Outside, the air was wicked sharp, but at least I could breathe fresh air. I left a few times a day to relieve myself or attempt to hunt. March was not far and the animals would be waking despite the snowfall that still continued. I had found a much smaller cave not far from our own. I dropped my bag on its hard ground and gathered snow into the large bucket, packing in as much as I could. I lit a fire and placed the bucket on top, melting the snow.

For the first time in two weeks, I removed my furs and clothes. Gods, they were rancid. My hair was worse. It felt as if someone had poured a vat of lard on my scalp and rubbed it into my hair. I had not the water supply to take care of this. Stark naked in my tiny, but warm cave, I grabbed my knife and hacked at my hair, cutting it right above the shoulders. It would not be even, but I cared not for appearances right now. Only that the grease be gone from my body. I tossed the locks into a corner and shook out what remained on my head. Already, I felt ten pounds lighter, my neck becoming less stiff.

Now that the monstrosity of grease was gone, I looked at my naked body for the first time in two weeks. Nothing appeared changed, though my breasts around the nipple were a harsh red and tender to the touch. I attributed this to the cold and how they had been too confined and unwashed. My body ached, even though my bedroll was comfortable. This I credited to the laziness I was suffering through, being stuck in the cave. I slept much more than I was accustomed too, even though my dreams of Edoras burning continued.

I tried not to dwell on the nightmares. That is what Aragorn taught me. They were not premonitions, only my own fears.

The snow had melted in the pot and was warm to the touch. I grabbed a cloth from my bag and dipped it in the water. I ran the warmth over my body, sighing at the feeling of cleanliness. It did not take much for me to get clean. I used a small bar of soap to lather the cloth and ran it over my body, getting rid of the grime that coated my skin. I grabbed a new cloth and soaked that in the water, using this one to wipe the soap away. When it was all gone I practically moaned with joy as my hands were able to glide over my skin without feeling like a strip of raw bacon.

I used the remaining water in the pot to wash my hair, which was easy now that its great length was gone. When I had finished, I sat by the fire, letting its warmth dry me. I felt tired again, even though I had done nothing all day. When my eyes started to sag, I shook my head and dressed in my spare change of clothes. My furs were fine, save for my scarf that had tamed the filth-ridden hair. I had a spare one back in the big cave, so I did not worry. I would boil the garments that had been on my skin in soap when I got back to the big cave so that I had clean clothes at my next chance to bathe. I redressed in my furs and walked outside. The sun had sunk considerably in the sky now and I knew that the two hours I had given the boys were more than up.

In the cave, things instantly smelled better. The three Rangers sat around the fire with new clothes on their backs, damp hair, and clean skin. They all held smiles on their faces, until I entered and it turned to shock. "Your hair," Trover noted.

"It had to go. It was a nuisance. I didn't like it long anyway."

Kelleth smiled again. "Well, you were right, my lady. I believe our newfound freshness has lifted our spirits immensely."

I smiled, putting my things away. "I'm glad." I sat between Kelleth and Alanric, removing my furs. Though it was still freezing outside, I could tell the temperature was rising, if only slightly.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Trover asked. "The change coming in the weather?"

"I do."

"We should celebrate," Al said. "Perhaps we may be able to leave this retched cave soon."

"I agree, celebrations are in order," Kelleth said, Standing and holding out his arm to me. "Perhaps a dance?" he asked.

I laughed. "There's no music."

Right on cue, Al started singing in a deep voice, Trover joining him. I smiled and took Kelleth's hand, letting him lead me in a dance.

" _When the whites melt away, and the new day dawns, then we sing of the love, when the sun turns bronze. Though we travel far from home, and we miss our loves, the forest calls, and the birds all sing like doves. Tis a bright day dawning, and our eyes feel new, to the way the clouds float, and the sky growing blue. The flowers bloom, and the grass turns green, it's the beauty of the world, like we have never seen_."

The song ended and I felt the urge to clap and Kelleth ceased our dance. "That was beautiful," I said.

"That is a song long held by the Rangers," Trover explained. "Spring is our favorite season, for it brings new life to the earth that we had missed while it was covered in snow."

"Now it is your turn, my lady," Al said, wagging his eyebrows. "Do share a song from your home."

"Only if you are comfortable doing so," Kelleth said with a soft smile.

I returned his grin and settled on a camp classic. " _I have a little present here for you, inside this tiny bottle so very small and blue. Please do not uncork it simply, put in on away. For inside there lies a summer's day. I'd be pleased if you didn't ask why I gave this gift to you. Don't know myself did it on a whim as the thought came running through. I just wanna make you happy in a summertime sort of way and I thought you might like your own summer's day. Can you read the writing on this tiny bottle's wall? I know that it's quite small, but I can read it all. It says you who is reading me are looking right at my side, and might be sort of interested at what lies inside. There is one breath of a butterfly, one ray from the sun, and lots and lots of laughter from little children's fun. So don't you dare uncork it or everything will get away. And I thought you might like your own summer's day. Put it on away_."

No one talked after I sang. We must have sat there, staring at the fire for hours.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for the bad poetry. Really, I am very sorry..._

 _Please Review!_

 **adanethe** l: _Glad you're so hooked! I'm writing this mostly because i was so curious myself about what happened in those years between the coronation and their departure from Middle-earth._


	10. Find

_Chapter 10: Find_

 _Third Age, 2030 February 22_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Éomer-

Thèoden regained his strength a day after I had returned and sent Erkenbrand after Rachel. He was not pleased that I sent one of his best and most loyal soldiers on this mission.

"Éomer," he said in what I assumed was an attempt at a calm tone "It was foolish to have sent Erkenbrand after her. She left of her own accord."

"Uncle," I explained. "I have a duty to her whether she wants me or not. I took her innocence before marriage."

"In a foolish attempt to keep her. I suppose you didn't think about what your actions might cause. What if she ends up with child?"

"That is why I have sent Erkenbrand after her," I lied. I had no intention of telling Thèoden anything about Rachel's condition. "There are wrongs I need to right."

The king sighed. "What do you plan to do in the meantime? I am well, for now. The Orcs have been cleared from the land."

"I'm traveling the Mark," I said. "I'm going to talk to the people. I want to hear it from them that they don't want Rachel as their queen, not from your less-than-helpful advisors."

He looked like he could explode. "You will never give up on this girl, will you?"

"No, uncle, I will not. I doubt my father would have given up on my mother, either."

His old face was somber. "No, he would not have. When do you leave? What village will you visit first?"

I smiled then, thankful that my uncle was siding with me for the first time.

* * *

 _Third Age 2030, March 8_

 _The Road to Rivendell_

-Rachel-

We left the cave after eight days trapped by the snow. The horses were ecstatic and the sun had finally come out of the sky, melting a significant amount of the snow on the ground. I road fast and hard with my companions, happy to be back on the road.

The next week brought on nothing but mountainous terrain, but the weather warmed significantly and I was able to travel with one less layer than before and no scarf on my head, only the hood of my cloak.

Animals emerged and we were able to hunt with much more success, catching rabbits and conies instead of squirrels. My spirits were lifted for the third week, though my mind still dwelled on Éomer constantly. I found myself questioning my decision but I knew it did no good to wonder what might have happened if I had stayed. At the very least, I was positive that he would not find me anytime soon after getting caught in that snowstorm.

By the beginning of the fourth week of our journey, we were only three days from Rivendell by Kelleth's count. I overslept that morning, something I was not prone to do. It was the first night the dreams of the Black Breath did not haunt me since beginning this trip and my body and mind responded accordingly. I was woken by an atrocious smell.

"By the Valar, what are you cooking?" I mumbled, covering my nose with my blanket. I could not describe what it smelled like, but it sent a wave of nausea through the pits of my stomach.

"We did not know you were awake, my lady," Trover muttered. "Alanric found eggs in a nest not far from our campsite. We thought we'd make a feast of it."

"I hate eggs," I said, and it was the truth. I've never liked eggs and always thought them disgusting to smell and taste. But these eggs were rancid. "I think they're bad or something. Don't eat them."

"What is the matter, Lady Rachel?" Kelleth asked.

I didn't have time to answer. My stomach took another roll and that was it. I scrambled out of my cot as fast as I could before I vomited into the dirt. I heard each of my companions call my name, but I could not respond. When my stomach was emptied, I dry-heaved painfully for what seemed like an hour. I felt a gentle hand caress my back.

Finally, I regained my composure, though the nasty smell of the eggs remained. "My lady, why didn't you say you were ill?" Alanric asked.

"I'm not ill," I said. I felt fine now that my stomach was empty, though my head hurt from the dry-heaving. "It was the eggs. I've always had an aversion to eggs, but those are rotten. I would not eat them."

"They are not rotten, my lady. I know how to scavenge in the woods," Al defended.

"Perhaps, if you are feeling better, you should refill your stomach," Kelleth suggested. He had been the one rubbing my back. "Maybe some bread? It is best you eat dense foods."

Trover grabbed a roll from one of our food bags and held it out to me. The smell of the eggs still penetrated the air and I wrinkled my nose at the bread. "I can't eat right now," I said. "I don't want that to happen again. I haven't puked since I was eleven years old."

"Maybe some water, then," Kelleth suggested.

Hesitantly, I grabbed his water skin and took a few sips. It did not settle my stomach. I handed it back, almost immediately. "There, I've had water. I'm packing up the campsite. We should head out. Perhaps we can get going soon."

I moved slowly to roll up my bed. "Really, my lady," Trover insisted. "You should eat some breakfast."

"I'll eat when the smell of eggs has cleared," I huffed.

They were not satisfied with my answer. I noticed Alanric pull Trover away for a moment, but I was too engrossed with getting Windfola packed and saddled to care what they had to say. Kelleth remained silent, though his looks at his brothers could have cut like a knife.

I did not talk to them for a few hours. Around midday, Kelleth was concerned again. "Really, my lady, there is surely nothing in your stomach. Are you not hungry?"

"Kelleth, I'm not ill. Please stop worrying. It was the smell of the eggs. I've always detested eggs. That's all."

"Then eat something, please," he said, holding out a piece of bread. I rolled my eyes, grabbing it from him and taking a bite. As soon as it entered my mouth, I realized I was hungry. "See? You just needed food. Would you like to take a rest and lunch?"

"I think I spotted a rabbit's hole not far back," Al called forward from his horse.

I stopped Windfola. Something in their tones brought me to a cautious state. "What's going on?" I asked.

Al tried to look innocent. Kelleth looked a little confused, but mostly concerned for me. "What do you mean, my lady? It is midday and we are hungry. You retched everything in your stomach hours ago. We're concerned you are not as well as you say you are."

"Really, Kelleth. I'm fine."

"Then you are fine to eat," Trover said, hopping off of his horse. "I'll start a fire."

Al jumped off next. "I shall check that rabbit hole."

"I'll go with you," I volunteered, getting off of Winnie.

"No!" Alanric yelled, earning a confused look from his brothers. What the hell? "You seem rather prone to sickness when you smell something foul," Al tried to cover. "I will skin and clean anything I find."

I rolled my eyes. Stupid Rangers.

* * *

 _Third Age, 3020 Late February-March 8_

 _The Road to Rivendell_

-Erkenbrand-

I did not want to leave Éomer in his state. But I had to do what he asked of me. It was my duty. For four weeks I tracked the young Bowmaiden, worried for her safety. Tracking Mearas is extremely difficult and I had little experience. She had been seen riding southeast, towards Aldburg, so that is where I started.

I ended up staying the night in the town tavern, leaving my horse, Frost, in the care of the local stables. It was quite crowded as I ordered a dinner and I ended up at a table with an older man, striking up friendly conversation. "You're one of the Riders?" he asked me.

"I am," I admitted.

"Always a pleasure to meet a Rider. I very much enjoyed you lot at the quarterly market."

"Were you one of the vendors?"

"Aye. Run the book stall in Aldburg at every market. Say, do you know a younger chap who bought a purple journal from me? I figured it was for his wife back home. I wondered if she liked it."

"Can't say I know for sure. My apologies."

He waved a hand. "Ah, no matter." He took a sip of his ale. "So I have to ask, what's it like fighting with a woman?"

"Excuse me?"

"Lady Rachel. Saw her at the market. Can't forget a face like that. My family was in refuge at Helm's Deep."

"You saw Lady Rachel at the market?"

He looked confused. "Just said that, I did."

"Where did she go?"

"She was with these three chaps. Rangers by the look of 'em. Heard one of 'em say they was headed for Rivendell. Figured they was friends of the Lady's. Is this not true?"

"No, it is true," I lied. "Rivendell, you said?"

"Aye. Figured she was on some diplomatic mission."

"And that doesn't bother you?" I asked, knowing Éomer would have been curious. "Lady Rachel as a diplomat for Rohan?"

"She's the consort of the King's nephew. Whole country thinks they'll marry. Can't blame her for dipping her toes in the water if she's to be queen."

"Do you want her to be queen if she's not Rohirric?"

"Don't see how it matters much, so long as Lord Éomer is happy. Rather he marry for love than for duty, personally."

"You are absolutely right, my friend," I said. "Thank you for the conversation."

"Always a pleasure, Rider," he repeated.

I was on the road the next morning, but I didn't make it far. Five days into my trip I made it to the base of the Misty Mountains when the great storm passed through. I was forced to turn back into Rohan's boarder and take up at an inn for a week.

Ass-numbingly dull the wait was, but I suffered through it. Frost, true to his name, was good in the snow, and we plunged through the Misty Mountains as fast as possible.

Evidence of a campsite was left at a cave. A large pile of horse manure had started to disappear into the earth, but it was a great amount. Enough for four horses. Inside the cave, a fire pit had been carelessly concealed. Not far from this cave sat another, though much smaller. It was there I found my first real clue. An uncovered fire pit sat in the center. On the floor was a pile of hair, the same color as Lady Rachel's. She had been here. I was headed the right way.

With this new positivity, I sent Frost as fast as he would travel. There were four of them and one of me. I would catch them if I made haste.

It only took another week. Riding hard and fast, I found myself at fresh horse-tracks. A jolt of glee went through my stomach. I was close to the Lady.

"Stop there, Rider!" I heard a voice call. A young man was standing in my path. He wore a green cloak over dark garments, a beard on his face. His hand was rested on the hilt of his sword at his hip. Clearly, he was a Ranger of the North.

"Where is the Lady?" I said, stopping Frost right in front of him.

"Descend your beast so that we may talk," he said, civilly.

I jumped off of Frost and stood in front of the Ranger. He looked slightly nervous. "The Lady Rachel travels with me and my kin," he explained. "But I cannot betray her trust in leading you to her."

"Is she safe?" was the first thing I had to know.

"She is well looked after, though more than capable of taking care of herself."

"I come on behalf of Lord Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark. He would have me plead with the Lady to return to her home, for the Marshal feels he has much to explain."

"She would never just return," the Ranger said. "She says she no longer fairs courtship with the Marshal. Why this is, I know not."

"The reasons she believes are not important. I only beg for her to return home. Thèoden King told her opinions of one man that were not true to the entire country. This must be rectified."

"I am sorry, Rider, but I cannot betray the trust of the Lady by bringing you to her when I know this is not what she wants." He paused, running a hand down the back of his neck. "I do this also because there is something happening that the Marshal should know about as soon as possible."

"Speak," I demanded.

"I cannot say for sure, but my younger brother and I believe her to be…with child," he mumbled. It sounded painful for him to say.

"How can you know this?" I asked.

"Four weeks we have been at her side and not once has she blead in that month. We would have noticed. Her sleep has become more frequent and she tires easily. Though she says nothing, I can tell her body aches with pains. Just this morning, I believe she suffered from pregnancy sickness."

I thought back to what Éomer had told me. Four weeks since we had left to battle Orcs in Aldburg. That was when he bedded her. It was certainly long enough for her to start showing signs of pregnancy. "Have you asked the Lady?"

"She would only lie and say she was fine. I do not even know if she knows for sure."

I nodded. She would lie, indeed. "I will ride for Edoras and inform Lord Éomer. Now that I know her location, he should be able to ride to her easily. Hopefully the worst of winter is behind us. You will get her to a safe location as soon as possible?"

The Ranger nodded. "We ride for Rivendell, but Lady Claire resides in Bree. Lady Rachel will want to be with her sister."

"That she will. Thank you for your help and trust, Ranger."

"I worry about my family's involvement, especially that of my older brother. It has gone too far for us. But do not think I do this for only my brothers. I do this for the Lady," he said, somberly. "For her to bear a child out of wedlock would ruin her, especially if she bears the bastard child of the King of Rohan. I do not wish for her to suffer in that way. In any way."

I jumped back on Frost. "Again, I thank you. And your kin for her safety." I turned around then, and road faster than I ever thought possible.

If Rachel was with child, Éomer had to know. He had to rescue her from this fate, for it was one she could not rescue herself from.

* * *

 _A/N: Alternative Chapter Title: Erkenbrand is a Hufflepuff_

 _Please Review!_


	11. News

_Chapter 11: News_

 _Third Age 3020, March 8-9_

 _The Road to Rivendell_

-Rachel-

"Where were you?" I asked Alanric as he strode back to our group.

"I could not find any rabbits," he said, sitting down and grasping his hands together tightly. "I suggest that this meal not take long. Two days more and we will reach the Elf-realm. Perhaps if we travel quickly we may be able to reach it in less."

"Why are you suddenly so hasty?" Kelleth asked.

"The Lady is the hasty one, not I."

"I suppose we don't have to go that fast," I said.

"I agree with Alanric," Trover said. "So close we are. Why not increase our speed as best we can?" he paused for a moment, stirring the pot of onion broth he'd been cooking on the fire. "Do you know anyone in Rivendell, my lady?"

"I met the family at the wedding," I said, referring to the union of Arwen and Aragorn. "Elladan and Elrohir are an enjoyable pair. Elrond I met during the war, three nights before the Battle of Pelenor Fields."

"What was the war like?" Trover asked.

"You do not need to answer that, my lady," Al said quickly. "We know of the trials of battle. You do not need to relive that now."

"It's alright," I said. "The war was…not what I expected it to be. I came into this world in the Mark and was found by Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Not long after, I met Gandalf. While the war was horrible, I made true friends. Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, died during my first battle, at the Hornburg. She was one of those friends. The first true friend I made in this world.

"I suppose what they don't tell you about war is the suffering of survivor's guilt. While you should be happy to be alive, your mind dwells on the fact that it could have been you. You should think yourself lucky, but you doubt your right to live. It is…conflicting to say the least."

"Do you have good memories at least?" Trover asked.

"I think it too selfish to think of the good times when there are so many bad. But I did have good times, yes. Training the women before the Hornburg battle was one. The first time I managed to disarm Legolas, even though he wasn't really trying. Reuniting with my sisters. There are a few, but I fear they are strongly outnumbered by the bad."

"I think the broth is done," Kelleth said, filling a small bowl. He made it so I wouldn't have to eat anything too solid, even though I felt fine. I downed it in a few big gulps, the cold air cooling it quickly. Kelleth chuckled. "Glad your appetite is back, my lady."

"We should eat a large meal while we're stopped," Al said. "Dinner can be a quick affair and we can sleep before taking off again."

"Why the sudden rush?" I asked curiously.

Alanric and Trover kept exchanging looks before the former looked me in the eye. "We do it for you, my lady."

* * *

The same thing happened the next morning. We road fast through the foot hills of the mountain, somewhere near fifty miles in a day. I didn't understand why Trover and Alanric needed to suddenly move quicker than me. They strained their horses, though Winnie was more than capable of keeping up. She always cooperated more when she had other horses to show off to. We stopped well after the sun went down and ate a meager dinner of jerky and dried fruits. My stomach now felt fine.

But when I woke up the next morning and Trover had caught him a rabbit, my stomach was doing flips again. I woke to him cleaning out its entrails. Its fur had already been skinned and was lying in a pile that he added the inedibles to. When the wind shifted, the smell brought me out of my dreamless sleep.

"Son of a bitch," I groaned, tucking my knees up to my stomach. I noticed Al was still asleep. Kelleth sat near Trover, poking at the fire.

"Are you ill again, my lady?" Kelleth asked, instantly concerned.

"It would seem so," I muttered, not wanting to open my mouth any further than necessary. I would not puke again, I was determined.

"My lady, if you need to retch, I would not recommend holding it in," Trover said, getting up and walking towards my cot.

I waved him off. I didn't want his gut-soaked hands near me. It would pass, like it did yesterday. I guess I was sick. Gods, I hated being sick.

"Please, don't let it sit in your stomach," he urged.

I shook my head. Trover rolled his eyes and grabbed a bit of rabbit organ and held it in front of my face. The smell was awful. It took all I had to hold it inside until I could get out of my bedroll. I made it to a bush and out came my broth and dinner. I hadn't taken a shit in two days because of this. I wasn't happy.

"What…the hell?" I gasped as Trover dropped the guts back in the pile.

"You are unwell, we must make haste to the Elves."

"Trover, do you know what's wrong with me?" I asked. It's the only thing that made sense. The way he looked at me whenever I got nauseous. The little talks he and Al had been having, supposedly behind my back.

"I dare not utter it. You would be most displeased with my opinion. Lord Elrond would be able to tell for sure."

Weakly, I got to my legs. "Tell me," I demanded.

"You are with child," Al muttered from his cot.

"Alanric!" Trover grunted through his teeth.

"She must suspect it herself, brother. It is her body, is it not?"

I sunk back to the ground. Holy. Shit. This can't be right. What did my gynecologist tell me six years ago? The chances of being able to conceive were one in a million without proper treatment and technology, which were unavailable in Middle-earth. And then I walked around school like a ghost for a week, this sense of dread filling me like I had never expected it would. I had long accepted I couldn't get pregnant. Al and Trover didn't know this about me.

"That can't be true, can it, my lady?" Kelleth asked as Trover returned to the rabbit.

"Why can't it?" Al countered.

"Because I can't bear children," I said, finally letting my secret slip to the other two brothers. I felt tears building up in my eyes. "I don't bleed regularly. I was told it was nearly impossible."

Kelleth sat down beside me and pulled me into an embrace. "Nearly impossible does not mean impossible."

The three of us sat in silence for a few minutes as the sun rose up higher in the sky. "That is why you left, isn't it?" Al asked, suddenly. "Éomer is the last living heir to the throne of Rohan. You thought yourself unable to bear him one."

I nodded, bringing my nose closer to Kelleth's armpit. Yikes. I pushed him away as the dry-heaving started again.

"You say you do not bleed regularly?" Trover asked when I had recovered. I nodded. "Then we have no way of knowing if this is even pregnancy without the help of the Elves. We thought you were with child because you hadn't blead in four weeks. If this is not the case, something else could be wrong. We should kill the fire. Ride to Rivendell with haste."

I nodded, feeling my stomach settle with nothing inside it.

* * *

 _Third Age, 3020, March 22_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Éomer-

Eight villages I had visited these six weeks. Not a single soul protested the union between Rachel and I. My spirits had lifted considerably in this time. Thèoden's had as well.

"The people do not reject her, you say?"

"They would never. She has done too much good for our country. My lord, they would gladly see her on the throne, and her heirs."

The old man nodded, a smile on his face. "This pleases me. I have grown to love her considerably. My heart wept the day she left. But Éomer, have you found her?"

"Erkenbrand has not yet returned. I take this as a good sign. A month he has been gone. Word would have reached our ears if he had come up short in that time." Behind my back, I held another one of Rachel's journals. It was the oldest I could find, mostly scribblings of memories of her family. But it also contained a vital fact my uncle needed to see. "My lord, I believe you should read this," I said, handing him the open journal to the page he needed to start at.

"You have been reading her personal writings?" he chastised, but he still took the book.

"She never forbade me from it, but this is something you need to see."

 _I'm extremely glad I'll never have to tell Thèoden about the war. In my mind, I feel as if it's Middle-earth repaying me for Éowyn's death. She had been the mistake that had been taken away from me, the girl who wasn't supposed to die. Now I had Thèoden, the man who should have perished, but was allowed to live. If neither of these occurrences are truly my fault, then I must see them this way. The consequence and the gift. Thèoden doesn't need to know he was supposed to die on Pelenor. I would rather him live his life without that knowledge then have it weigh on his shoulders. I care too much for this man, who I think is becoming the father I have lost._

As I watched him read the passage, I saw the effect I had wanted. A tear slipped from his eye. "Why have you shown me this? Did you know, Éomer?"

"She never told me. Though, she probably should have told you. You live because she was there on that field. If you ever had any doubts about your decision to let her and the other women fight, I wanted you to know that the decision was not made in vain. She loves you, uncle."

He closed the book with a sigh. "Find her, Éomer. I must apologize for what I have done."

I shook my head. "This is not your fault, my lord. She would have left anyway, for entirely different reasons. She knows the people of this country love her. I just wanted you to be able to see that."

"The longer I live, the more I believe you are ready for this throne, my nephew. I truly believe you will be the greatest king to ever sit in these halls."

I left with a small bow. Outside, a sight I did not expect was waiting for me.

"Éomer," Erkenbrand said, bowing his head. "I come with news, though I did not want to disturb your meeting with the king."

I pulled him into an empty room. "Speak, my friend," I begged.

He sighed. "I found Lady Rachel, not two days from Rivendell. Éomer, she…"

"What is it, Erkenbrand?"

He sighed again. "Éomer, she is with child. Your child."


	12. Arrival

_See A/N for info on title change_

* * *

 _Chapter 12: Arrival_

 _Third Age 2020, March 11_

 _Rivendell_

-Rachel-

I didn't get any worse, but I also didn't get any better. My body ached immensely and I swear my breasts were in a constant pain, though I wasn't sure if that was from the suspected pregnancy or just placebo effect.

My companions seemed to think that traveling while with child was something of a crime. So they pushed the horses further than they should have. Windfola could go days without rest if she thought it was urgent enough and the decreasing speed of their horses as we reached Rivendell was driving her crazy. I had to keep slowing her down.

"Please, can't we just rest?" I asked, giving Winnie a well-deserved pat.

"We've nearly arrived, my lady," Trover said. "Rivendell is just beyond this ridge."

We had passed between the mountains and were getting closer and closer. When the Elven city came into view, I downright gasped like an idiot.

Seemingly built into both a mountain and a river, Rivendell was absolutely gorgeous. Everywhere I looked, snow shimmered off of magnificently large trees that should have looked lifeless in the winter, but instead held the snow like flowers on their branches. Intricate stone statues taller than buildings could be seen over its enormous gates, which were intimidating, but still beautiful.

I made Winnie gallop faster, even though Kelleth called for me to wait for them. I ignored his pleas, stopping Winnie at the gates.

They opened immediately as I jumped off her back. A familiar face appeared to greet me. "Lady Rachel, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Elladan," I greeted,

"You brought companions?" he asked, surprised.

I turned as Kelleth, Alanric, and Trover approached, the three jumping off their exhausted horses. "Lord Elladan," Kelleth greeted.

"Kelleth of the North," the Elf said, bowing his head. "You and your brothers seek shelter, I presume?"

"Only to recoup from our journey, if your house would be so kind."

"The House of Elrond will always welcome travelers from the North," he said before turning and winking at me. "And the horse-realm."

"Thank you, Elladan," I said.

He smiled warmly. "Elrohir and Father will be pleased to see you, though I don't know why you are here. Oh, there is also a certain guest at our house presently. He too, will welcome your arrival."

"Who?" I asked, confused.

"Prince Legolas Greenleaf. He is in the training grounds."

He didn't need to say anything more. Though I had no clue where the training grounds were and my legs ached from these stupid pains, I started running into the city. "My lady!" Kelleth called. I could hear his footsteps sound behind me, but I continued to run. "My lady, the training grounds are this way." I turned back toward him, his arm pointed to the east. I changed direction and he led me to the arena-like area.

He was in a duel with a brunette Elf, but I didn't care. "Legolas!" I called. The fight must have been a spar, because both assailants dropped their weapons at the sound of my voice. I saw Legolas's eyes widen as they met my own. I all but flew into the arena and into his arms. The need for his comfort and familiarity was like a drug after one month of traveling with strangers. I gripped his body, clinging to it like a lifeline.

"Why do you weep?" he asked.

I hadn't realized I'd been crying. "It doesn't matter," I said. He tried to break the hug, but I wouldn't let him. I just gripped tighter.

"Rachel, I am glad to see you, but this is inappropriate. Let us retire to a more private area."

I sniffled a bit, finally letting go and wiping the tears from my eyes. We walked pass Kelleth, who looked a little biffed. I ignored the reason why, like I had been the entire trip. "You brought her here, Ranger?" Legolas asked.

"For my part," he said, shortly. "My brothers and I guided her to Rivendell."

"Thank you for her safety."

Kelleth simply nodded. I gave him a smile as Legolas led me out of the training grounds and up to what I assumed was Elrond's house. He led me inside to where it was much warmer and I took off my furs. He wore nothing to keep out the cold, nor did he need to. "I am happy to see you, my friend," he started. "But I must know what brings you here. I sense a lack of peace from your mind. It is troubling."

I sighed, sinking into a chair. "It's a long story, and you'll be very put out with me by the end."

"Since when am I not put out by your tales?" he asked with a small smile. "Tell me, Rachel. The anticipation is dreadful."

I leaned forward, my head in my hands, and I told him everything. All the way up to Trover's and Alanric's suspicions of my current medical state. I even explained the PCOS, even though it seemed to confuse him.

"So that's why I had to leave. Rohan is too important to make sacrifices for only my happiness. I'm not that selfish. I didn't think pregnancy was even possible until two days ago. If I had known this would happen, I never would have left. Now that I have, time is too big a problem. If I am pregnant, I could not travel back to Rohan in this condition, and I would be showing by the time I reached it, anyway. He couldn't marry a woman with child, even if the child is his. He can't marry me after it's born. No one would ever accept a bastard on the throne." I paused, letting that last fact sink in. "Like everything else in my life, I've ruined it through self-destruction. Whether I wanted to or not."

Legolas bent down in front of my chair, taking my hands in his. "I wish this had not been your fate, my dear friend. Everything you say, I fear, is correct. But, as I understand it, you are not even positive you are with child?"

I shook my head. "There's no way of knowing for sure with me, since I could potentially go up to six months without bleeding."

"You should consult a healer here in Rivendell. Perhaps Lord Elrond? There is no one better."

I nodded. The odd disappearance of the Black Breath symptoms were also a concern of mine and I knew Elrond had experience in treating it. "But, will he not judge?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you Elves are very…peculiar about the ways of love. This all happened out of wedlock, though it did happen inside betrothal."

He chuckled, then, a slight roll in his eyes. "Rachel, Elves and Men are two entirely different creatures. You, Claire, and Kristen are precious to Lord Elrond. While he may disapprove, he will not judge. Elves are not sexually driven creatures like Men. It is simply an act of procreation for us. Love is deeper than all that."

"Love is deeper than that for me too," I said. I felt the tears coming back on. What the hell was with all the crying? I never cried this much. "I still love him, Legolas. I love him more than a thousand hearts could ever dare love. I just wish it didn't hurt so much."

He pulled me gently out of the chair and onto the floor with him, holding me and letting me cry. I clutched at his shirt and breathed in the sweet scent of his blond hair. It was comforting that there were still some things my nose would tolerate that did not make me hurl. "We do not have to see Elrond now. He will understand. You should bathe and change clothes. Surely your body is in pain?" I nodded my stiff neck as the tears subsided again and he led me to another room so that I could bathe and change my clothes.

* * *

 _A/N: Okay, so you may have noticed the title change. Everything is okay, but since starting book three of this nonsense, I've realized that this is no longer a story about just Rachel and Eomer. Don't get me wrong, they're still the primary focus, but by the time you reach the middle of book two and especially book three, it's no longer just their story and it didn't feel fair to the other characters to call it The Tales of Rachel and Eomer any longer. It will now be known as Awakening._

 _Please Review!_


	13. Savior

_A/N: Minor smut warning._

* * *

 _Chapter 13: Savior_

 _Third Age 3020, March 11-16_

 _Rivendell & Bree_

-Kelleth-

And just like that, an Elf took her away. After her tales of traveling with Legolas during the war, I had no reason not to trust him. However, I did not like how she was removed instantly from my presence. When I went to find her, Legolas stood outside the door of a guest chamber, patiently waiting. "Is she in there?" I asked. He nodded. "I wish to see her."

The Elf lowered his eyes to the ground. "I do not think that would be appropriate."

I was taken aback. "And why is that?"

"She is with child. You were correct, though she does not know it for sure yet. I wish for her to talk to Elrond first. But it is not your child, nor are you in anyway committed to her. I thank you for her safe arrival, but any further entanglements should be avoided."

"You have no right to keep me from her, Elf," I snarled. "I would hear it from her lips that she no longer wishes for my presence."

Legolas seemingly lost his temper at my words. "You think I do not know the vile thoughts that purge your mind?" he growled, moving closer to me, his height towering above my own. "You are lucky the Third Marshal will not hear about that, for it would surely mean your death, Ranger. I have seen him punish men for lesser offences. She is not for your taking."

"She has left the Marshal!" I argued, my voice rising. "His claim on her no longer stands. That child will be his bastard only, and never anything more."

"And you wish to give the child more than what? The title of bastard? I know your plans and you will not make any moves towards her. She is not yours to protect."

"She is yours, then?" I countered.

The Elf bowed his head, his voice softening. "Long have we been friends and that will continue to remain. But while I simply care for her, you do not. She is in enough trouble as it is. I will not have you furthering her misfortune." He paused, regaining his composure. "I know you and your kin have come to Rivendell for refuge. But when you have regained your strength, I ask that you return home and forget about Rachel. She does not need to know of your feelings and add another burden to her shoulders."

I was beyond angry at this Elf. I had known they were long-time friends, but I never imagined that the month she and I had spent together in the wilderness would mean nothing once we reached our destination. We had shared intimate secrets, danced together by the firelight. My "vile thoughts" as Legolas had called them were not vile at all. But if he wanted me gone, then so be it.

* * *

I lay with my back sinking into the hard mattress, staring up at this stranger's face. Her dirty-blonde hair fell in cascades over her bare chest as she sat atop me, thrusting her hips, sinking my cock deeper into her parts. I grunted harshly, moving with her. She clutched at the fabric of my shirt, which I hadn't removed. I could feel her insides closing in around me, ready to come, and I let her. Her body shivered as she fell on top of me, removing herself from my cock. She grabbed it in her hands, rubbing the last of my hardness out quickly. I had paid for this, after all, not her. I grunted as I released, sinking back into the sheets.

"You," she panted, out of breath. "Are very good, Ranger." I did not respond. I simply lay there, trying to regain my own breath. I felt her hand land sharply on my chest. "I would let you do that again," she said, placing a kiss on my bicep.

"I do not think so," I said, sitting up in the bed and resting my head in my hands.

Her hands started massaging my back. "I know men like you," she whispered, laying kisses on the back of my neck. "Men who want what they can't have and are never satisfied by the consolation of another."

I stood up from the bed, then, throwing a small pouch of coins in her direction. I wrenched my trousers on and grabbed my boots. "What's her name?" I heard her ask, softly.

"Rhilen," I answered, shoving on my boots.

I heard her giggle. "Well, I'm Amaril. Just in case you come looking for me the next time Rhilen rejects you."

I grabbed my winter furs and almost ran from the room. The wench did not know anything of my situation. I had ridden for two days to reach Bree, where I knew I would be able to find some way to release this tension. I had thought, perhaps, that these feelings I had for Lady Rachel were brought on by lack of intimacy. She being the only woman I had looked upon in a month was surely the explanation for the thoughts running though my head, but I knew now that wasn't the case.

I left the inn, throwing my cloak over my shoulders. The temperature was warming considerably, and my furs were only needed at night. I made my way to the stables, where my horse waited for me.

"Kelleth!" I heard my name being called. "Kelleth, wait!" I turned. Lady Claire ran toward me. Bloody tits, did I have to do this now?

"Claire. I did not expect to run into you," I muttered.

She looked confused. "Where else would I be?"

"Perhaps the Shire?" I said, doing my best to look innocent. I forgotten that she was residing here.

"The wedding isn't for three more weeks. I told you I would be here."

"I forgot, my lady."

She sighed. "Never mind. You should come with me. We have much to discuss, I'm sure."

She led me back to the inn and I tried my best to look comfortable. But Amaril was back behind the bar now, and I could feel her eyes on me the entire time.

"How did your trip fair? Where are Al and Trover?" she asked, politely.

"Ask me not of that now. I shall tell you after. I have King Elessar's reply."

She looked nervous. "What does he say?"

I took a deep breath. "There is no cure for this poison. The wound you sustained in Tuckborough will eventually claim your life. I am so sorry, Claire."

She sunk back into her chair, gripping at her thigh where the arrow had struck her four months ago. "I suppose I'll have to tell Rachel and Kristen," she muttered. "After the wedding. I wouldn't want Sam to worry."

"You should not be so selfless in this moment."

She smiled. "I had suspected this was the truth. Tom already informed me that this could be my fate. I just had to know for sure."

"Elessar says the Elves will grant you passage to the Undying Lands, if you would wish it."

"How long do I have?"

"Elessar estimates two years."

She nodded her head. "Good timing." I knew not what she spoke about, nor did I care at the moment. Amaril's eyes were like daggers into my back. I cursed my cock in this moment, ungrateful for its generosity to her womanhood.

"You still haven't told me how the trip went," Claire said.

"Um, yes," I said. Claire had more of a right to know about Lady Rachel then I did. I could not keep it a secret from her. "My brothers and I were in the company of Lady Rachel."

Claire all but jumped from her chair. "What? Where is she? Why did she leave the Mark?"

"Claire, I think it best you learn of her situation from Lady Rachel and not myself. She is in Rivendell, under the care of Lord Elrond and Prince Legolas."

Her eyebrows crinkled. "Why would she need their care?"

"As I said, these are things best explained by your sister, not I."

She stood and grabbed my hand, leading me out of the inn. "I'll get Arrod. We can ride to Rivendell immediately."

"Are you sure you should be traveling?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do not baby me, Kelleth. I've traveled in far worse, you know that."

* * *

She said very little on the trip to the Elvan kingdom. While it had only taken me two days, riding throughout the night, I insisted we stop so that she and her horse could rest. It delayed our arrival by a day, less than what I hoped for. While I longed to see Rachel, Legolas would certainly be outside her chambers at all times, keeping me away from her.

Elladan greeted us at the gate, opening it for Claire and giving her a warm hug. "Where is Rachel?" she asked.

Elladan's face was long. "She is in her borrowed chambers with Legolas. She has refused to let him leave her side."

Claire turned back to me. "What the hell is going on? Why would she come here without Éomer?"

"You did not tell her?" Elladan asked me. I shook my head. "She is in the east wing, Lady Claire. She has been requesting that we send out riders to bring you here, but we knew not where you were." He turned to me. "Thank you, Kelleth, for finding her."

I waved off the Elf's thanks. "I can take you to her chambers," I offered.

"Actually, I shall do that, if you don't mind, Ranger," Elladan said. "It is my father's house, and I would hate to be an ungracious host."

I knew he was making an excuse. I could tell Legolas had informed him of my feelings towards the Bowmaiden.

My brothers waited for me in the stables, where I took Arrod and my own horse. "Where have you been?" Alanric asked.

"I rode to Bree to find Claire," I explained. "I was much faster on my own then we would have been together. She needed to hear Strider's message and be informed of her sister's whereabouts."

"How did she take the news?" Trover asked.

"Better than I would have. Clearly, there is something she knows of the future. I believe she has a plan."

"Does she have a plan for Lady Rachel, then?"

"I did not tell her of her sister's condition. I did not feel as if it was my place." I sat on a stool as Al put my horse in a stall and Trover took care of Arrod. "Has anything changed? Is there any news about the lady since I've been gone?"

"She is indeed with child," Trover said.

"I sent word to the Third Marshal," Al said.

Instantly, I was on my feet. "Why have you done this? Surely, the lady would disagree. Who have you sent with this word?"

"Two days before our arrival, I encountered a Rider of Rohan in the woods, trailing us and looking for the lady. He had been sent by the Marshal to locate her. I told him of our suspicions, Kelleth, and he turned around with haste. I wouldn't be surprised if the Marshal were here within the next month or so."

"You did not answer my question. Why have you done this?"

"Because the Marshal is to be a father and he has the right to know. But I did not do this solely for the Marshal benefit. Kelleth, you have become too concerned for her. She was but a maiden we found in the woods and decided to help. Now that she is with her friends and kin, we must step back and return to the North. It is our duty."

"You think you know my mind better than I do?" I asked.

"I can guess you went to Bree for more than Claire," Trover mumbled. "Did you bed a wench while you were there, as well?" I did not need to respond. Trover knew me too well. "I knew it. You did not leave to find Claire, you left to burden your cock of lust that you cannot attain. You must let her go, brother. She is the Marshal's, not yours."

"I don't like to think of myself as property to be doled out," a small voice said from the door.

My brothers and I jumped up from our seats. Rachel stood in the doorway, adorned in a cream-colored dress. I had never seen her in anything other than furs and trousers. She looked so…regal. But there was an odd look on her face, making her seem more like the normal woman I had grown to adore. "Thank you for bringing Claire," she said, looking at me. "I need to talk to you."

"Absolutely," I said, walking towards her.

She gave my brothers a glance. "Alone," she hinted.

Trover and Alanric both stood, giving her a small bow and walking from the stable. She walked over to Windfola, a carrot behind her back. "How much of that did you hear, my lady?" I asked, embarrassed.

"Not much. Something about you and a tavern wench." So she still did not know of the Marshal. That was good. I started to make an excuse, but she held up a hand. "I'm the last person to be judging others on reckless sex." She placed a hand on her stomach.

"So you know for sure, then? About the babe?"

She nodded. "Lord Elrond inspected me. He says the baby is fine, even after our journey. His gift of foresight was compromised after the destruction of the One Ring, though. He could not tell me the sex." She paused. "I want to thank you for bringing Claire and sparing me the ride to find her myself. Legolas practically had to strap me to my bed to keep me from riding after you." Another pause. "He told me of your feelings."

I felt my face grow hot. "My lady, the Elf cannot possibly understand the feelings of a Man. He is mistaken—," she held up her hand again.

She was so regal and she seemed to glow before me. "You don't have to make excuses, for I knew before he told me. This is partially my fault. I flirted, and I know I shouldn't have. I used you to see if I ever could get over Éomer." She bowed her head, a tear escaping her eyes. "I know now that I cannot. I am sorry, Kelleth. I did not think it would go this far."

I took her in my arms. "You need not cry, my lady."

"Please let me go," she muttered into my chest.

I stood back, but I kept one hand on her shoulder. "The Marshal of the Riddermark does not deserve you. His life as king will be a burden of frustration, stress, and worry. That would fall on your shoulders as queen. I would save you from that life."

"What would you do?"

"I would marry you, take the child as my own so the title bastard would not follow it. I know you think your heart still belongs to the Marshal, but it could belong to me, in time."

She shook her head. "I cannot do that to you. You had no hand in this situation. And you have done more than you know in bringing me to Rivendell. You are a Ranger of the North." She placed her hand back on her stomach. "This child is Éomer's. I will not have anyone take the fall for our tryst in Edoras but us. You should go with your brothers, back to the North. That is where you belong."

"My lady—,"

"Go, Kelleth. And don't think of me again."

I was suddenly angry. Rejection was not something I was used to. "You think he will come back for you after what you did to him? You think you and your child are worth more than an entire country? He will not come for you. And now you have given up the one chance you could have had at a happy life." Tears started running down her beautiful face and I left her standing alone in the barn.

 _Please Review!_


	14. Truth

_Chapter 14: Truth_

 _Third Age 3020, March 16_

 _Rivendell_

-Rachel-

That was the most painful thing I had done since leaving Edoras. I couldn't believe what I had gotten myself into and I certainly didn't think Kelleth would take it that bad. I fed Winnie a second carrot. "Am I a bad person?" I asked her. She did not respond, being a horse. She simply nuzzled my face with her nose, wiping away the tears there.

Kelleth's mention of stress, frustration, and worry had me remembering the very same words Thèoden had spoken to Éomer as he sat by my bed after Pelennor. He hadn't known that I was awake. His prediction that day had, in fact, come true. I had surely brought him little more than stress, frustration, and worry. And my heart broke as I had made a promise to myself to not let that be our fate. For how could my recent actions have spared my love those tortures?

I composed myself and walked back to Elrond's house. Claire only had time for a quick hello before Elrohir shuffled her out of my room and to his father.

When I got back to my room, Legolas was there, as always. His father had sent him to Rivendell after he sailed away to the Undying Lands, leaving Mirkwood to diminish. Legolas was not ready to sail just yet.

"Did you talk to the Ranger?" he asked me as I sat down in a chair.

"I did. He was…displeased with what I had to say."

"So you broke his heart."

"His heart is only bruised. He did not truly love me. It was a dream in the back of his mind. An infatuation."

My Elf friend smiled. "I do not think you understand the effect you have on men."

"Men hate me."

"If Éomer were not so protective, you can believe many men of the West would have attempted to woo you, Rachel. You do not give yourself enough credit."

"You don't try to woo me," I joked, wanting to change the subject.

"My heart does not need companionship when my race is diminishing. Truly, I have all I need in this world through friendship."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called.

Claire walked through, looking disheveled from her ride to Rivendell and extremely tired. "Hey, Legolas," she said.

"I am pleased to see you, Claire, but I suspect you two have much to talk about. I will return with an evening meal for the three of us." And he left the room.

I sunk into a chair, Claire following me. "What the hell is this big secret no one will tell me?" I asked her.

She was absentmindedly stroking her thigh. "I could ask you the same thing. Elrond was acting weird when he mentioned you, and Kelleth said something about you being under Elrond's care. Where is Éomer? Why isn't he with you?"

"I asked you first."

"No way," Claire said. "If I tell you my news, we'll never make it to yours. There's no way it's bigger than mine."

"Wanna bet?" I joked. "I'm pregnant."

Her jaw dropped. "But…I thought you had PCOS."

"Which made conceiving unlikely, not impossible."

Her eyes moved to my stomach. "So…there's a baby in there?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess there is."

"So you ran then? From Éomer?"

I shook my head. "I only found out about the baby a week ago."

"Then where is he? It is his, right?"

"Yeah, it's his," I snapped. "Who else do you think I've been sleeping with?"

She held up her hands in defense. "Sorry. It's just…you're here alone. Ever since your induction into the Riders, you two have been inseparable. I won't lie and say rumors don't travel fast. People are saying you're the next Queen of Rohan."

I was so tired of explaining this to people. The brothers, Legolas, Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir. "I left. I was scared. Now I can't go back." I tried to get it out as simply as possible. I assumed it was pregnancy hormones that were making me cry all the time. I didn't want to do it again. "The reasons why I left are complicated. I'm still trying to reason with the fact that I actually did it. Can we not talk about that?"

She looked unsatisfied, but she did not pry. "I guess you wanna know my secret then?"

"Seriously, Claire. The suspense is killing me."

She took a deep breath. "Please don't freak out. This is the kind of thing that would freak you out and I don't want to hurt the baby."

"Claire if you don't spit it out—,"

"Four months ago I was in the Tuckborough Woods looking for the Entwives. Merry, Pippin, and I have been searching for them since we got to the Shire after the coronation."

"I know, you told me at the last check in when you visited for three days then took off."

"Yeah, you and Éomer are disgusting. Can you blame me?"

"Please don't talk about him," I said, wrapping my hands around my stomach.

"Sorry," she paused, still stroking her thigh. "I was attacked in Tuckborough by a group of Orcs. Merry and Pippin weren't with me. They shot me with an arrow. That's how I met Kelleth, Alanric, and Trover. They were tracking the Orcs and they saved my life. They took me to Tom Bombadil—,"

"Tom Bombadil!" I said. "That's so cool."

"Yeah, he's great. Maybe I'll take you to meet him." She paused, briefly. "Anyway, the arrow they shot me with was tainted. Tom didn't know what the poison was. He worked for days to find a cure, but the only thing that numbed the pain was _atholas_. I sent Kelleth and his brothers to Aragorn to ask about the poison. He—he said it's called _violeth_. And there's no cure. He guessed I have two years left."

I looked at her, not comprehending her words. "W-what? What do you mean two years?"

She sighed. "I'm dying, Rachel. I didn't want to tell you or Kristen. It's why I didn't send the brothers to check in at Ithilian, like I was supposed to."

"So you used Rosie and Sam's wedding as an excuse to avoid us when you've only got two years left?" I don't know why I was getting so angry. Damn hormones!

"It's not like that. Kelleth only told me Aragorn's message three days ago when he found me in Bree. It's why I had to see Elrond as soon as I got here. I came here after I sent the brothers away. Not even Elrond had a cure. He granted me passage on the Last Ship to leave Middle-earth with Galadriel, Celeborn, Gandalf, Bilbo, and Frodo. I'll go to the Undying Lands and the poison won't spread."

"Claire," I hesitated. "I—I don't know what to say."

She smiled. "You don't have to say anything. Let's not focus on this. My problems are arbitrary. I want to help you."

"Why? I'm not dying, I'm having a kid. There's got to be a cure."

"Elrond has been searching for three months. If there can be a cure, he will discover it. There is nothing I can do. It's out of my hands." She paused, her eyes moving back to my stomach. "I wish you'd tell me what happened."

I sighed. After what she told me, my problems seemed like mere snags. I owed her the truth. So I explained why I left. And why I could never go back now.

"You can't think he won't come after you," she said.

I shook my head. "He would have found me by now. Or at least sent out scouts to bring me back. It's not like I didn't leave a trail. There is so much more I could have done to cover my tracks. Subconsciously, I kept it conspicuous. I hurt him too much. He won't want me back."

She shook her head. "I think you're wrong. But whatever. I can't say I agree with what you did, but I get why you did it. What did Thèoden say?"

"Thèoden is the one who asked me to break it off," I said. "Though, it was for different reasons. He didn't know about the PCOS. Éomer didn't know about the PCOS."

"Then why did Thèoden ask you to leave?"

"One of his advisors told him the people wouldn't accept me as queen, since I wasn't of Rohirric blood."

"Bullshit," she scoffed.

I nodded. "Yeah, but he could be right. There are so many villages in Rohan. Who's to say that the outer lying people have different opinions than the ones in Edoras or Aldburg?"

"Well, I can't argue with that." She paused. "Does Kristen know?"

"I haven't told her. Though, it's entirely possible Éomer went looking for me in Ithilian. Where else would I go?"

"You'd come to me, naturally." She stood up from her chair and pulled me into a hug. "I'm so glad I found out first! I thought living so far north would keep me out of the loop."

"There's no such thing as the loop," I said, hugging her back.

"So what are you going to do? I've seen girls in the village get pregnant out of wedlock. It's never pretty and it's hard for them to make money."

I sunk back into the chair. "It's so weird, but I haven't worried about money since we were home. The royal family had buckets of it and no taxes to pay."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Poor little rich girl."

"We've given you stipends!" I defended.

"I was only joking. But, seriously Rachel?"

I sighed. "I guess I'll try and find a way home."

Claire shifted uncomfortably. "Rachel, there is no way home. When I first came here, before the coronation, I asked it of Elrond. He said the Valar are the only ones who hold the knowledge on that kind of magic."

My spirits fell. "And the only way to get to the Valar is to sail to the Undying Lands."

She nodded, her face somewhat somber. "But, hey! Sam's wedding is in two weeks. You should be my plus one!"

"I don't know," I said hesitantly. "I don't think I'm in the mood for a wedding right now."

"But this is iconic! You can't miss the wedding of Sam Gamgee and Rosie Cotton! And you can see Merry. He never shuts up about you."

I sighed. "I guess it would be nice to see Merry."

"Yes!"

* * *

 _Third Age 3020, Late March  
_

 _The Shire_

We traveled to the Shire very slowly, as Elrond had advised. He was worried about the baby. My morning sickness was still very much a thing and my breasts felt like they were on fire, but I refused to complain to Claire. She was the one dying, not me.

The Shire was absolutely beautiful. There was still a nip in the air, but the sun shone brightly for us on our arrival. The greenest grass you had ever seen cascaded over the small rolling hills that held little Hobbit holes. Farms larger than I expected had all been planted anew for the upcoming spring and the smell of the fresh earth was, luckily, one my stomach could tolerate. When we got nearer Hobbiton, many of the small creatures came out of their holes to catch a glimpse of us "big folk".

"I thought Aragorn had banned anyone who wasn't a Hobbit from entering the Shire?" I asked Claire.

"He did, but I had already set up camp in Tuckborough when that decree was passed. Plus, Merry, Pippin, and I had made all of these plans. So Aragorn left it to the Thain of the Shire to decide if a big person could enter. Pippin's father is still Thain, so it wasn't hard to convince him that I'm trustworthy."

"And he won't try to bludgeon my head with his hairy foot when he sees a new stranger?"

She laughed, turning down a road. "Like their feet could reach your head. You're with me, Rachel. Don't worry."

I made Windfola follow Arrod as Claire led us to the door of a hole. She hopped of her horse and I followed. She gave three brisk knocks on the door, which was opened by a familiar face. "Lady Claire, you've returned!" Merry greeted jovially.

Claire bent nearer his height to give him a hug. "It's been a month, can you believe it? And I brought a friend."

Merry peeked over her shoulder and his eyes landed on me. "Lady Rachel!" he practically screamed, letting go of Claire and running into me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I laughed and sunk lower to his level. "It's so good to see you, my old esquire."

"Is it true you're the second-in-command to Lord Elfhelm now?" he asked.

"Yes," I lied. "I was lucky enough to get furlough to come visit Claire. I didn't know there was to be a wedding. I hope it's okay that I showed up uninvited."

"We're Hobbits! The more the merrier!" he practically yelled. His enthusiasm was infectious. "Does anyone know you're here?"

"A few saw us arrive. We haven't actually spoken to anyone."

"Come then. We must find Pippin!"

The remainder of my day was spent greeting my Hobbit friends. Sam was absolutely ecstatic I had come, even though he and I barely knew each other. Frodo was very polite and welcomed me as well, asking about Kristen. I told him she and Faramir were married now, which bit at the still-festering wound in my heart. Pippin just wanted us to eat all day.

The accommodations in the Shire were obviously not built for big folk so Claire and I made camp at the edge of the Old Forest near the Brandywine River. I didn't think anything in Middle-earth could still surprise me, but after visiting Rivendell and the Shire, it rekindled some of that magic that I thought had left.

The wedding was beautiful. Millions of flowers flew through the air as Sam and Rosie kissed. It wasn't quite as painful to attend as I thought it would be, but my heart still ached. I had kept my running away a secret from the Hobbits, not wanting to ruin Sam's big day. As far as they knew, I was still under Éomer's courtship and a Rider of Rohan. They certainly didn't know I was pregnant.

"When do you think you'll start to show?" Claire said to me at the reception. I had been offered a small tankard of ale, but refused. I doubted the people of Middle-earth knew the side effects of drinking while pregnant.

"You know, I'm not a pregnancy expert."

She chuckled. "You're about to be."

"We shouldn't talk about this here. Let's just be happy for Sam and Rosie."

She stared into her drink. "I think you should tell Merry. I heard him say something about accompanying you back to Rohan for a visit. He's still an esquire."

"If he asks, I'll tell him I'm not due to return for months."

"It's going to look weird, Rachel. Thèoden is dying. All of Middle-earth knows it. And you're his ward and not there to be with him when he passes."

"Can you please just stop talking about this," I begged, feeling the tears coming on. "I know I did the wrong thing. I probably shouldn't have come here with you. I'm almost seven weeks pregnant and these stupid hormones have me all out of whack. I'm so tired I feel like I'm going to pass out at any moment and the smell of that pumpkin soup has my stomach rolling in ways stomachs shouldn't roll. Not to mention the stupid cramping." All the things I promised myself I wouldn't complain about came rolling out of my mouth like the stupid morning sickness. "Thèoden was like a father to me. I know his time approaches. He could be dead right now and I wouldn't know it. And that pains me more than leaving Éomer. Please stop trying to make me feel guilty so I'll go back. I can't go back."

She looked shocked at my outburst, but nodded softly. We went to bed that night with this animosity between us that I thought had passed since the war. I guess it was still there.

We left the Shire three days later, both in dejected moods. Merry never asked me to return to Rohan. Our trip back was even slower than before and accompanied by the side-effects and horrendous cramping. As we crossed over the ridge to Rivendell I was exactly eight weeks and four days pregnant. It was then something went wrong.

* * *

 **Erika** : Have no worries about me continuing! I've already written two of the four books Awakening will contain and I've started the third. And thank you for the compliment! I'm glad to hear this is at least somewhat realistic.

 **Leb** : The whole point of the Undying Lands is that i literally keeps you from dying. That's why Frodo goes with the Last Ship: because the wound he sustained from the Morgul Blade would have eventually claimed his life. You can only die from old age, unless you're an Elf. So Claire wouldn't necessarily need to go back to Earth just yet. She just wouldn't be able to live on Arda so far from the magic of the Valar. I hope this chapter clears some of that up!

As for Kelleth coming back...we'll just have to wait and see ;)

 **gginsc** : Kelleth is a pretty proud guy. How could you not be when girls like Amaril are fueling your ego. Thanks for the review!

 **anadethel** : How could Rachel not stay with Eomer? Lol, I liked Kelleth too. But don't worry, I hate leaving loose ends untied.


	15. Gone

_A/N: I feel the need to apologize in advance...I'm so sorry._

* * *

 _Chapter 14: Gone_

 _Third Age 3020, Late March-April_

-Éomer-

I stood dumbfounded in front of Erkenbrand. "That cannot be, my friend."

"I did not talk to Rachel specifically. She travels to Rivendell with three Ranger companions. I know not who they are. One discovered me trailing their party and left to inform me of his suspicions of her pregnancy."

"Why did you not talk to her?"

"The Ranger insisted that she would not speak to me. He said to return and inform you of her condition. I think he believes you are the only person of Rohan she'll speak to."

"But…she can't be pregnant."

"You bedded her, Éomer. She certainly can be."

"No," I shook my head. "You do not understand, my friend. That is why she left. She knows her body is unable to carry a child. I was told this by Kristen."

"Whether that be true or not, she is a part of you. You have a bond that cannot be broken by insufferable advisors. Ride to her, Éomer. Ride to Rivendell."

I needed no more prompting. I left Erkenbrand to inform the king of my departure. Firefoot was well rested after our small trips throughout the Mark. Rivendell was two weeks away. I would be with her soon enough.

As I guided Firefoot through the country and along the Misty Mountains, my mind did not much wander. It was at night, when my horse and I had to rest, that the incessant thoughts entered my mind.

Rachel was possibly with child. My child. What would this mean for our future? The people of the land adored her but what would happen when she returned pregnant out of wedlock? Would they still accept her if they knew of our troth? This I did not know.

The child would not be a bastard. Out of wedlock or not, I would not abandon this duty. It was then my thoughts lead me to one simple fact: I was to be a father.

I knew not how to be a father. Children, and especially babes, were not what I knew. How to slash a sword and tightly grip reins was my specialty. Babes needed nurturing and gentle hands. I looked at my own, calloused and rough from years of battle and practice. I clutched them into fists that could crush a man's bones. These were not the hands of one who could raise any kind of child.

Rachel was many things, but what I knew to be true was that she was made up of opposites. She was a fighter, one of the fiercest battle-maidens Rohan had ever seen. Fiercer than the Shieldmaidens of old. She could kill twenty Orcs with her bow in mere seconds. She could slash through their skin like butter with her sword. She could ride Windfola through the toughest weather and terrain without a single complaint.

But there was another side no one knew until after the war had ended. I had watched her sit beside injured men for hours, grasping their hands, keeping their fading souls company until they passed to Aman. She had saved countless lives through strange medical tactics and sheer willpower to see them live. In the deepest part of my soul, I knew her to be just what Thèoden had told me by her bedside in Minas Tirith over a year ago. _She is a rare find, that one. It takes one of a kind to stand up and make a change. Not even Éowyn could have done what she has done, uniting a kingdom even further than I could have thought._

She had taught me so much this last year. How to love, how to cherish life, even how to live it. Now I would have her teach me how to nurture.

Firefoot and I made it to Rivendell a day later than I had intended. The Elves always made me cautious. I did not like the feeling of beings who could outlive me by hundreds of lifetimes. Legolas was the only Elf I had ever trusted.

We were greeted at the gate by Elrohir, Son of Elrond. I hopped off my horse and noticed his grim disposition. "Lord Éomer, Son of Eomund," he greeted, opening the gate for me to enter. "We sent my brother after you. We did not know if you would come."

"Something has happened," I said, his somber face an instant signal. "Where is my betrothed?"

The Elf, who looked so young though I knew it to be untrue, seemed to be holding back tears in his wet eyes. "The lady suffered a miscarriage two days ago. I am sorry, Lord Éomer."

* * *

 _Third Age, 3020 April_

 _Rivendell_

-Rachel-

I felt a warm trickle down the side of my leg. I wore trousers made of wool for the cold weather. I thought it could be sweat brought on by excessive swamp-ass, but it wasn't.

"Claire?" I said, stopping Windfola. "Claire, something's wrong."

"What is it?" she said, turning around on her saddle.

The fabric of the pants was wet with blood. A lot of blood. The sharp pains that I had been feeling the last couple of days swept through my stomach again, like an intense period cramp. I winced and Claire looked worried. "We're almost there. We'll get you to Elrond as soon as possible."

But the cramps only got worse. It felt like months had passed before we reached the gate. Elrohir was waiting. "Open the gate!" Claire called to him. "Something's wrong. Rachel needs to get to your father immediately."

Elrohir didn't hesitate. As soon as I passed through, another wave of pain thrashed through my abdomen. I doubled over on top of Winnie as the pain became more and more intense. I felt strong arms wrap around me. Elrohir carried me up to the house. I vaguely remember him telling Claire to find Elladan to watch the gate. With every passing moment, the pain grew greater and greater.

Elrond stood over me soon enough. "The hell is happening?" I asked him through gritted teeth.

"Worry not, child. It will pass. Grip Legolas's hand for the pain."

Legolas was here? Gods, I couldn't think straight.

His smooth hand was inside my own and I clutched at it. Had he been a human I have no doubt I would have broken his fingers. "It is alright, Rachel. Just breathe. Try to breathe," he whispered.

"Legolas, what's happening?" I begged.

"It is a miscarriage, Rachel. It will be over soon."

I felt my pants being taken from my body. I wanted to protest, but the pain was too great. They were drenched in blood. Why was there so much blood? Why did it hurt so much? Why was this happening? I wanted Éomer. For the first time since I left, I admitted that to myself. I wanted his arms around me and the scruff of his beard against my face. I wanted to breathe in his sent of hay and sunlight. And all I had was my Elf friend. Claire wasn't even here.

I don't know how long it lasted, but the pain eventually passed. Legolas cradled my head as Elrond cleaned up the blood. So much blood.

I cried into Legolas's chest, soaking his tunic in my tears. He only gripped me tighter. "Why is there so much blood?" I whispered.

"You carried twins, child," Elrond said, sinking into a chair. He looked exhausted. I didn't know Elves could even get exhausted. "Two miscarriages caused more pain than you would have normally experienced at nine weeks. And twice the amount of blood. You will continue to bleed for a few days."

I felt my heart almost stop. "Twins?" I asked.

"Yes, my dear. I am so sorry."

I heard Elrond get up and leave. I continued to cry into Legolas's chest for what seemed like hours. He didn't seem to mind. But he wasn't who I wanted. I wanted Éomer. I wanted the man I loved.

"We sent Elladan after Éomer," Legolas said. How did he know? "He is the fastest rider in Rivendell."

"It will be weeks before he gets here," I mumbled. I felt my eyes start to sag. How long had I been crying? The tears were only starting to subside.

"You should sleep," Legolas said softly.

I shook my head. "I can't sleep. Not after that."

"Your body has been through much. Sleep is the only way you will heal."

But I didn't want to heal. No mother would after that.

I didn't protest as Legolas carried me to my room. Someone had put a bleeding garment on under a dress I had been changed into. I could still feel the trickle of blood flow into the cotton. I pretended to be asleep as he lay me on the bed. I felt his lips grace my head with a kiss I didn't deserve before he soundlessly left the room.


	16. Together

_A/N: Ahem. Smut warning. Bad smut. I'm so sorry._

* * *

 _Chapter 16: Together_

 _Third Age 3020, April_

 _Rivendell_

-Éomer-

I demanded that Elrohir take me to her. The Elf tried to persuade me to accompany him to his father first and I had protested. Loudly.

"There is no need to shout, Éomer," A familiar voice said, coming to the city entrance.

"Legolas," I said. He held out his hand and I grasped it firmly. "Where is she?"

His face was somber. "She does not sleep. She does not eat. I will take you to her, but only after you have spoken to the lord of this house. He will explain this delicate situation."

"I must see her," I begged.  
"I know, _mellon_. But Elrond must speak with you first."

Reluctantly, I nodded. Legolas would not keep me from her unless it was necessary. He led me into Elrond's house and into the lord's personal study. The ancient Elf sat at a desk, his eyes just as somber as the rest of them.

"Éomer Horse-Master," he greeted. "How I wish we could have met on a happier occasion."

"Why have I been summoned here?" I asked. "When my betrothed suffers as much as Legolas has described."

"I wanted you to be aware of what has transpired. Rachel has been through a great turmoil. The human body can only sustain so much. Elves who suffer the infliction she has rarely survive. Our hearts can't take the torture of losing one child, let alone two."

"Two?" I asked.

"She carried your twins. What their gender was, I know not. It was too early." He paused. "I sense your discourse."

"I think calling it 'discourse' is generous. I am…beyond words, my lord."

"You must have rode here before my son was sent to find you. You knew of the pregnancy?"

"I had sent one of my Riders after her. He was informed of her condition by a Ranger that accompanied her. I left Rohan as soon as I received the news that she was with child."

"Lady Claire mentioned a condition Rachel had before her arrival in Middle-earth."

"I have forgotten the name, but I knew of its existence."

The Elf-lord sighed sadly. "After miscarrying, the chances of a mother being able to carry out another pregnancy lower exponentially. With her previous affliction, Éomer, I doubt she will ever conceive again."

"She thought it impossible to conceive these children," I countered.

"It was an anomaly. You are the heir to the throne of Rohan. In the light of my race diminishing, I cannot help but voice my concerns. You are the only heir. Your sister and your cousin both sired no children. What will you do when the House of Eorl ends its rein?"

"I will sit beside the woman I love as I choose a new successor. I have spoken to the people of the Mark. Rachel is beloved by everyone there. They would not care about simple inabilities. If my house ends, then it will end in happiness."

Elrond nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Forgive me, but I had to ask. It was a curiosity in my mind if you had bedded her for love or simple defilement." I could not think of a response that did not involve my fist meeting the Elf-lord's face. "She is in the east wing. She has not eaten since the ordeal and I worry for her health, Éomer. She refuses everyone's presence, even that of Lady Claire. I believe she is waiting for you."

I nodded curtly at Elrond before practically running from his study. Legolas stood outside and walked me to her room. Quietly, I opened the door.

She lay on a bed, her back to the door. "Leave me be," I heard her mutter in a shaky voice. When I did not exit, only shutting the door behind me, she started to turn. "I said leave, Legolas," but she stopped when her eyes met mine.

I could not stop myself. I landed on her bed, pulling her into my arms. This was what I had been missing for over two months, her comforting body against my chest. Her head buried into my neck and I felt her hot tears land on my skin. "You're here," she muttered over and over.

"Yes, my love. I am here," I said, stroking her hair. It had been cut back to its original length, but I did not mind. It still smelled like her. A sent like her own personal garden.

We sat like that for hours as the sun set in the sky. We did not talk, save comforting mutters as both our eyes started to sink. I had very little sleep on my journey here and I had never been more comfortable. Her breathing changed and I knew she was asleep and I followed her lead into the dreams.

* * *

I awoke with her still nestled against my body. She was covered in sweat and her face stuck to my shirt, her arms sticky with perspiration. Her breathing was haggard and her eyes moved under their lids. It was a dream of the Black Breath. Though I knew she needed sleep, I could not watch her suffer. I gave her a gentle shake. "Rachel, my love," I muttered into her hair, resting my chin on her head. "You must wake. It is a nightmare."

Her eyes fluttered open, terrified of what she had witnessed in her sleep. Her breathing was suddenly heavier now that she had awoken. She looked up to my face. "You're here," she repeated, the same words from last night.

I kissed her head. "Of course I am. When you needed me most, I rode to your side."

She buried her terrified eyes in my chest. "I lost them," she muttered.

I stroked her back. "It was not your fault."

"Legolas told me not to ride to the Shire. I should have stayed here."

"We will never know what could have been, love."

"Éomer," she said, her voice utterly heartbroken. "There's something you don't know. I have this…this thing called Polycystic—,"

"Kristen informed me of your affliction weeks ago," I whispered. "I know what this loss means. Elrond has explained."

"It's why I left," she said. "Thèoden said that I wouldn't be accepted on the throne. Though I knew in my heart that was untrue, I did know that I couldn't bear you an heir."

"I know," I said. She should not have to explain this now. "You speak as if I do not know you, but I do. We are a part of each other. These reasons are not secrets to me. It does not matter that you cannot conceive."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I do not care." I grabbed her chin and moved her to face me. "Do you know what I've been doing for the last two months?" She shook her head. "I've been riding to the villages, asking them if Hemonbold's accusations were true. I could not find one soul who did not want you as their queen."

"Hemonbold?" she asked. "The new advisor?"

"Yes."

A look of realization flashed across her face. "His wife was in my legion during the war. She…she perished on Pelenor."

I nodded, everything making sense now. "And he held this vendetta against you. He whispered untruths into Thèoden's ear."

"How is he?" she asked. "The king?"

"He waits for your return at Meduseld. His strength had returned before I left, but there is no way of knowing how he's faired these last two weeks."

"Does…does he know about the babies?"

"I had Erkenbrand inform him as I left. He and I have not spoken about it."

"How did you find out?" I explained Erkenbrand's encounter with the Ranger on the trail. "Alanric," she mumbled.

I assumed that was the name of the Ranger. We sat in silence again, my hand continuing to stroke her back. "How can you still love me?" she asked after a time. "After all I have put you through, how can I still have your heart?"

"Because, my love, you have done what no other ever could. You have tamed this horse-lord and made him a better man. A man who grew up with little compassion and lusted only for the battle, who did not believe his heart could ever belong to anyone. A man who bedded whores to appease his urges without even thinking of the possibility of giving that union to someone that mattered."

"You're not that bad."

"But I was, until you saved me. The loss of my parents, Theodred, and Éowyn will haunt me until my dying day, but it is you who saved me from sheer madness. You know not the man I would have become without your face as my anchor to sanity. Your willpower during the war to win my affections kept me alive, for I knew that there was someone who still cared."

"I didn't try to win your affections. Only your forgiveness."

"You won both, my love, whether you wanted to or not."

Her breath continued to shudder. "I dreamt they had lived," she said. "Our children. They were beautiful, Éomer. A boy and a girl. And you, their proud father stood with me as we watched them grow. But the dream turned back into the miscarriage. And the pain and blood returned and I felt like I could not breathe."

"Shh," I hushed her, tightening my hold on her body. "It is over. You do not have to relive it."

"I will relive it every day," she said. Her tears were returning. "Every moment, I will relive this. It was our one in a million chance and I lost them."

I could not continue to watch her suffer. I pulled her from my body, forcing her to face me. Her eyes were closed. "Look at me, woman," I demanded. Her brown eyes opened and stared into my own. "It was a one in a million chance you would wake from the nightmares of the Black Breath, and you did. A one in a million chance I would find peace with Éowyn's death. One in a million I would find you when you needed me most." I paused, leaning my forehead against her own, staring down her brown eyes, still wet with tears. "We are a one in a million couple, Rachel. We will make it through this. We will ride back to Edoras, and you will marry me under the bluest sky the land has ever seen. The people will rejoice at our happiness. Kristen and Claire will cry with joy for their sister. Thèoden will live to see this day, for he will be the one to tie our union. And I will take you back into the Golden Hall where our marriage bed awaits. I will make passionate love to you and every worry and care in the world will vanish when we lay together in that bed. We will be hopelessly happy as we hold each other and fall asleep." I reached into my pocket, pulling back from her face. "And this ring will never leave your finger again."

I lifted her hand from my thigh and replaced what should have been there long ago. She watched as I did this and our eyes met again. Without warning, her lips were upon my own. Her hands grabbed my hair, knotting into the tangled, unwashed locks. Her tongue entered my mouth and, with a newfound sense of experience—not of sex, but of life—we held each other. It was full of reunion and love, but also sadness for our children, whose souls had surely found Aman by now.

And we held each other well after the next passing of the sun, sharing all of our secrets that had gone unsaid.

* * *

By the fifth day, she had recovered and her bleeding stopped. We said goodbye to Claire, promising to see her next at our wedding. I kissed her hand and thanked her for helping Rachel. Legolas was sad to see us leave. Rachel asked him to come, but he said he had to find Gimli, for he had promised the Dwarf another adventure. But he promised to return to Rohan for our wedding and Gimli would be there too. Elrond gave us his blessing as he sent us on our way.

In the woods our first night on the road, I fell asleep unexpectantly, but only for a moment. When I woke, she was gone, but I did not fret. She would never leave me again.

And I was right, for she returned within a few minutes. "Where did you go?" I asked, poking the fire.

"I had to say goodbye to some friends."

"The Rangers?"

She nodded. I was so happy to be back with her, just us out here in the wilderness, the night air cool, but not frigid. "Éomer," she said. "I want to do something for you."

"What else could you possibly do for me?"

Suddenly, she all but tackled me back onto my cot, landing her lips on mine. I moaned from the pleasure, hugging her closer to my body. I could feel my arousal as she started pulling off my cloak, then my shirt. This time, I did not stop her. Now that I had her once, by body ached for her again. When my shirt was over my head, I returned to her lips, a hunger inside me that could only be satisfied by her taste. I bit down on her bottom lip and she giggled. I had to have her now. I grabbed her shoulders and threw myself on top, bending back down to kiss her. But she stopped the descent of my head, placing her fingers on my lips. "I said this was for you, remember?" she whispered.

I was confused and she laughed at my expression. She sat back up and pulled her cloak off her shoulders. I reached over and grabbed the hem of her shirt, looking at her for permission, for I knew not what she planned. She gave me a wicked grin. I pulled the shirt over her head and she placed her hand on my bare chest pushing me back into the furs. I felt her nibble at my earlobe as I removed her trousers and her fingers worked to untie mine. She moved down my body, trailing me with kisses as I had done to her on the night of our betrothal.

I sat up on my elbows. She tried to stop me but I grabbed her wrist. "Rachel," I said, my voice shaking with my arousal. "It has been only five days."

"I want you," she said, grabbing at the waist of my breeches. "Two months and I finally have you back after thinking I had lost you forever. Éomer, I am happy and I want to share this feeling with you. So, my horse-master, may I continue?"

She didn't wait for my reply. She wrenched the trousers from my waist, exposing my arousal and placed her mouth on top of it. I was putty in her hands and I melted into this feeling she was giving me. I could only mumble her name in a breathless state.

I was nowhere near my peak when she removed her mouth. She moved back on top of me and I reached for her bare thighs as she lowered herself onto me. Soon, I was inside her. She thrusted her hips, and the pleasure was too much. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to peak until she was at least near her own.

She lay back on top of me, placing another kiss on my chest. I felt her hard nipples graze my skin. "This is for you, remember?" she said.

"Woman, you will be the death of me," I grunted as she pulled back into her riding position, giving another hard thrust. I came then, my head falling back into the furs.

"If this is death, Éomer," she muttered, removing herself and laying down next to me. "Perhaps it's not as bad as most men perceive it to be."

I tried to regain my breath, but she had truly done a number on me. I had always favored women with experience over the opposite, and I was happy for the first time that she knew what she was doing. "I've never felt that before," I admitted in my breathless state.

"I'm glad to share this with you," she said, placing a kiss on my beard. "I wanted to make up for lost time."

I placed my hand on her cheek, stroking it with my thumb. "You have done just that, my love." I pulled her lips back on to mine. I rubbed my cock while she was distracted, regaining my arousal. Now it was her turn.

I hoisted my body over her's and she stopped our kiss to give me an amused look. "You think you could go again after that?" she teased.

"You are talking to the future king of Rohan, woman. Do not insult my pride."

"As the future queen of Rohan, shouldn't I be looking out for the well-being of my people?"

"Do not doubt my stamina," I growled, ending our banter with another kiss. I grabbed her wrists and locked them onto the furs in a tight grip. I would have to send her to her peak quickly, for I didn't know how long my second arousal could last. This would be rougher than our previous love-making. I bit her lip sharply and she let out a squeak. With one hand, I held her wrists, and with the other, I fingered her folds, feeling her wetness with my thumb. I moved my head down and placed her nipple in my mouth, circling it with my tongue. She all but shivered as she reached an external peak, wetness seeping out of her folds.

"Éomer," she moaned as I removed my mouth from her breast with a small bite. I returned my working hand back to her other wrist as I stayed above her. I used my knee to separate her legs and she parted willingly. I smiled as she continued to moan. "I do love it when you say my name like that," I whispered. I thrusted inside her, making her squeak again. Her release did come quick and she jerked, her back arching, but unable to move since I had her pinned. I continued to thrust until I myself was spent, yet again.

I collapsed beside her and we worked together to regain our breath. "How," she said. "Could you have kept that from me for a whole year?"

I found myself breaking out into laughter, for I had been thinking the same thing. "We will waste no more time. That I can promise you."

"If it weren't for Thèoden, I would stay here forever with you," she admitted, nuzzling her naked and sweaty body into my side. I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face in the top of her head. If only that were possible.

* * *

 _A/N: Again, I apologize. But in reward for presenting you with a chapter much longer than my regular ones, perhaps a review is in order? No? Well, fine. I'll just assume you loved the bad smut then. #sorrynotsorry_


	17. Wedding

_Chapter 16: Wedding_

 _Third Age 3020, May-June_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Rachel-

We managed to keep ourselves under control for the remainder of the trip. Théoden's failing health had us moving as fast as Firefoot and Windfola would carry us. Still, it was two weeks until we returned. Éomer had been gone over a month.

We did not stop to greet the villagers. Instead we rode straight up to Meduseld, leaving our horses to be taken care of by a stable servant. We ran inside to the throne room, where Thèoden sat, pale and sickly, with Hemonbold by his side.

"My Lady Rachel!" the advisor said with surprise. "We did not expect your return."

"No, I don't suppose you did," I snapped. His wife's death was not my fault. She had fought on her own accord. He would not make me feel guilt for this, which I knew I didn't deserve. "Thèoden King," I greeted, bowing my head. "I apologize for my hasty departure. I was not granted furlough, and therefore, a disgrace for abandoning the First Marshal and his eored. I will take whatever punishment your highness sees fit, as well as that of Marshal Elfhelm."

I raised my head as I finished. Thèoden simply stared at me. Then, with a strength I did not think he still possessed, he stood from his throne and walked to me, holding me in a tight embrace. "Dark have been these halls without the light of your laughter," he said. And though I could not see his face, I knew he wept. "I knew not you would leave when I made my statements almost three months ago. You are like a daughter to me, my dear Bowmaiden. The fault of your departure lies solely on my shoulders." He stepped back, but kept both his hands on my shoulders. "Erkenbrand tells me of wonderful news. Are you truly with child, my dear?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat at his question. "I miscarried three weeks ago, my lord. So, no. I am no longer with child."

He wiped away the tear that trickled down from my eye at the remembrance of my lost twins. "It is no matter," he whispered. "You will surely have these halls running rampant with little feet soon enough."

I had not the heart to tell him that wouldn't happen. "Uncle," Éomer started, stepping forward.

"No, he's right," I said, cutting him off. "Children abundant."

The King chuckled, pulling me into another quick hug. "When will you be wed?" he asked.

"As soon as your majesty announces it to the kingdom," Éomer said.

"Then we must waste no more time, my children. Hemonbold, call the villagers to the steps of Meduseld. I have an announcement."

* * *

It was just as Éomer had predicted. We were wed in June after a solid month of stressful planning under the bluest of skies. It was not the wedding I had pictured for myself in my childhood, it was better. Though Hilda (who had forgiven me without any apologies, though I gave many) wanted to dress me in gold, I insisted my dress be white. And so, she fashioned a dress for me that hung from my body tightly, but tastefully, its wide sleeves leading all the way down to the floor, along with a belt of silver chains. On my head, I wore no veil. Instead, an intricate silver head ornament that had belonged to Lady Theodwyn, given to me by Thèoden. My shoulder-length hair was kept simple.

I walked out of Meduseld into the bright sunlight where Éomer waited for me with Thèoden. I could not help but smile as both pairs of eyes widened at my entrance. I saw Éomer's arms twitch to grab me, but he held them by his sides.

And Thèoden declared to the land that we were husband and wife. And the people all cheered as we kissed, though none cheered as loud as Claire and Kristen (the latter sporting an impressive baby bump), who were beside themselves with happiness for me and my husband. I saw Gimli wipe a tear from his eye as Legolas thumped him on the back, giving me a small wink. Even Aragorn had attended with Arwen, both of them watching us fondly as Éomer did his best not to pick me up and carry me into our bedchamber.

The celebration that followed went down in history. Barrels full of ale and wine were distributed throughout the hall and they were never found empty, getting replaced almost immediately. The largest cake I had ever seen was wheeled in from the kitchens and cut for the taking. Food was galore and I marveled at how well our crops were fairing. I left Éomer's side only to dance with my guests, sharing a few with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Thèoden, Erkenbrand, Elfhelm, and many of the Riders. The celebrations lasted until well after the sun set. Éomer ended the party by calling out to his people, thanking them for sharing this day with us. And then he did what he wanted to do since Thèoden had declared us wed: he picked me up into his arms and carried me to our bedchambers.

* * *

Breathless, I lay my head against my husband's chest, listening to the racing of his heart. "You were right," I said.

"And what was I right about, exactly?"

"The day you found me in Rivendell, you told me of our wedding day. The blue sky and the happiness in Thèoden's eyes. Even the part about passionate love making."

He kissed my cheek, his own smooth from a morning shave. "Our love making will always be passionate."

"Éomer?"

"Yes, love?"

"I wish my parents could have been there."

He let out a deep sigh. "As do I. But we cannot dwell on the unattainable. This is something I have learned from you."

I did not say anything for a long time. I simply lay in his arms for what could have been hours. "Éomer?" I said again, this time a whisper.

"Mmm?"

"I don't want to give up hope."

"On what?"

"On…children," I admitted.

His almost-sleeping body suddenly tensed and his arms tightened around me. "Never shall we give up hope, Rachel. For you promised the king many tiny feet roaming these halls someday."

"I only said that to appease him."

"I know. But you cannot deny the hope that rests in the very words. Unlikely it may be, but we have established we are a couple that defies the odds, are we not?"

I lay my arm over his hard stomach, pulling myself even closer. "I can't believe you're mine."

He kissed the top of my head. "It is even more unbelievable for me, for I never intended to marry, let alone fall in love."

"And now that you are married," I teased. "How do you think life will suit you in the coming future?"

"I cannot imagine a better future than one spent forever with you."

And we held each other as we fell asleep, happier than we had ever been.

* * *

 _A/N: One more chapter of this book and then we get to move on to part 3! I'm really excited for book 3! I think you guys are gonna love what i have in store. As always, please, please, please leave a review!_


	18. Aldburg

Chapter 18: Aldburg

Third Age 3020, June

Aldburg, Rohan

-Rachel-

At Thèoden's request, Éomer and I were to move to Aldburg to live as a married couple. I didn't want to leave him in Edoras, but he insisted that his health had really improved after the wedding. Aragorn, after inspecting his fellow king, agreed with Thèoden. His sickness was brought on by stress and weariness. In fact, it looked like Thèoden would continue to be with us for quite some time.

With marriage came a multitude of lifestyle changes I was not okay with. As Third Marshal, Éomer should have been living in Aldburg this whole time, but with me living in the capital, he had left the keeping of the city to his friend Eothain. Eothain's wife, Frida, had been serving as Lady of the House there since the end of the war. She would be the one showing me the ropes when we arrived.

That was the first thing I was not okay with. I did not want to stop being a Rider. But after a long talk with Elfhelm, he convinced me that this was what was best.

"Married women have duties to attend to."

"And that's all I am now, I guess. 'Éomer's wife'."

He chuckled. "My lady, you will forever remain 'battle-wench' to me. Better yet, you will remain Bowmaiden to the kingdom. I doubt anyone will think of you as merely 'Éomer's wife'."

"But that's what it feels like, Elfhelm. It feels like I have to give up everything that I love just to be married."

With a long sigh, my old Marshal leaned back in his chair. "Rachel, you know why you left the Third Eored?"

"Because Éomer worried more about my safety during battles instead of the battle itself," I said.

"Yes. Now that you are his wife, that bond you have instantly becomes stronger. How can you expect him to do his job when he worries for the safety of his wife?"

"But that goes both ways!" I argued. "Why should he ride off to battles and leave me stuck in Aldburg, worrying if he'll return?"

Elfhelm nodded. "That is a good point, but I'll bring up another. This is Éomer's life, Rachel. Like his father before him, he is the Third Marshal of the Mark. You, Bowmaiden, are a valued member of the First Eored, but there are other things you could do in life that would fill the void if you were to give it up. You cannot fight in the same eored, this has been established. As husband and wife, you want to live in the same place not saddled by Thèoden King. In this instance, a sacrifice must be made. Do you see what I'm saying?"

It was my turn to let out a sigh. "We can't fight in the same eored and I can't commute like he does. Yes, I understand."

With a small smile, he patted my shoulder. "I wish I didn't have to lose you. I doubt I'll find a better second-in-command. And it's a mystery why Thèoden never forewent the old traditions and named you a Shieldmaiden."

"Because the kingdom named me Bowmaiden instead."

* * *

Now, I sat upon Windfola's saddle, all of my belongings packed into a caravan that was pulled by Erkenbrand's and Eothain's horses. Éomer rode beside me on Firefoot. Every so often, he'd shoot me these perplexed looks and by the third one, I was getting annoyed.

"Why do you keep staring at me like that?"

"I suppose I just can't fathom the fact that you are now my wife," he said, a smile spreading across his face.

"Well, get used to it," I said with a grin.

"Are you nervous about Aldburg?" he asked.

With a little cough, I admitted, "The last time I was there was the quarterly market in February. Before that was the orc battle you almost took a knife to the shoulder to get to me across a field. My memories of Aldburg are not all that pleasant."

"Fear not, my lady," Eothain called over to me. "Frida will help you get acquainted. I think you'll find it runs quite similar to Meduseld."

"Except there's no king, no advisors, and no Hilda."

Éomer chuckled. "She'll be here in a month. And didn't she mention retirement?"

"Yes, but only when I can find a suitable replacement. Not that I need a replacement, but she'll never retire if I'm left without a maid. In the meantime, it'll be nice to have a month free of her nagging me about wearing skirts and keeping my hair long."

"Not even Hilda could turn you into a proper lady," Erkenbrand joked.

"Proper is boring and predictable," I muttered.

"And you are anything but that, my dear wife," Éomer said.

Eothain and Erkenbrand both let out large guffaws. "Words we never thought we would hear escape his lips!" the latter practically yelled.

"We will have to get used to this new and married Éomer," Eothain said through his laughter.

"I will knock your heads together, I swear on Bema," Éomer said through gritted teeth. That only made his friends laugh harder.

"Ignore them," I said, flashing his a mysterious smile. "We're not far from the city. I'll race you."

And without waiting for a response, I kicked Winnie forward, savoring the warmth of the spring air along my face and through my hair.

Frida was a kind woman, slightly plump, well-groomed and, naturally, blonde-haired. She was at the steps of Aldburg's fortress when Éomer and I arrived, Windfola only slightly faster than Firefoot. Her son and daughter were playing in the grass outside, little wooden horses seemingly recreating the race Éomer and I had just finished.

"Beat you," I said, jumping off Windfola.

"Your horse is half-Meara and carries much less weight than Firefoot!" he defended.

I heard Frida chuckle from the steps. "I hope you two are not fighting already."

"Merely jesting, dear Frida," Éomer said, grabbing me from behind and kissing the back of my neck.

"Lord Éomer, where is Papa?" Frida's daughter asked, running over and tugging at Éomer's pant leg. Her younger brother trailed her, not quite old enough to form sentences like his sister.

Éomer let go of me and pulled the girl from the ground and into his arms. "I'm afraid Lady Rachel and I outran your papa, little Eorinya. He is still behind with Erkenbrand."

Eorinya's brother was now at Éomer's feet, making his horse toy gallop on his boot. Éomer laughed and put Eorinya back on the ground and ruffled her brother's hair. "And what of you, young Eonost? Are you also missing your papa?"

"Papa, papa!" the little boy said, dimples forming as he recognized the word.

I smiled, giving my husband a quizzical look. He was so…comfortable. He certainly didn't act like this back in Edoras.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Frida was there, looking apologetic. "I wish I could have been at your wedding, my lady," she said. "Unfortunately, Eonost is still too young to travel the distance to the capital."

"You don't have to apologize, and you don't have to use a title," I said. "Not if we're going to be spending so much time together."

She smiled, her gaze moving to Éomer. He now had Eonost on his shoulders, the little boy trotting his horse on my husband's golden head. But it didn't seem to faze him as he pointed. "Look there, lad, over the hill. I see your papa."

"I wanna see Papa!" Eorinya cried tugging at Éomer's pants again. He simply chuckled, putting Eonost back on the ground and pulling the girl up to the same height.

"You look perplexed," Frida muttered.

I smiled. "I just…I've never seen him with kids before."

"Oh, are you getting that look so soon?" she said, laughing.

"What look?"

"The Mama Look. You've only been married three days. As a mother, let me tell you that is not nearly enough time for just the two of you."

I was thankful the children had Éomer so engrossed that he couldn't hear this conversation. I wanted to tell Frida about what happened last month, but I figured that was better suited after we got to know each other better. "It's not the Mama Look," I said. "It's a…look of surprise. He is so comfortable here. He doesn't act like this in Meduseld."

"Well, Aldburg is his home, after all."

I nodded. "And I'm happy to move here with him."

Eorinya was now on Éomer's shoulders and was braiding his hair. With a small chuckle, Frida picked up her son, who had tottered over to the two of us. "I'm afraid Eorinya has always had a bit of an infatuation with Éomer. Since she could talk, she was always asking about him. He and Erkenbrand spoil her like devoted uncles."

I laughed, running my hand through my hair. "Well, I hope my marrying him doesn't hinder her opinion of me."

We both laughed and Eonost pointed at my face. "Brown!" he said, his eyes wide.

"What do you mean 'brown', son?" Frida said, stroking his blond curls.

"I think he means my hair," I said. "You don't see much brown hair do you?" I said, grabbing a lock and tickling his face, which made him squeal with laughter. Soon, he held out his hands, reaching for me.

"Well, you don't have to worry about winning the favor of this one," Frida said, handing him over. Immediately, he was tugging gently on my hair, but I did not mind.

"Papa!" Eorinya called. Eothain and Erkenbrand were almost here now, the cart they tugged with my possessions inside having kept them from keeping up with Éomer and I.

"There's my girl!" Eothain called, and Eonost was suddenly aware of his father's voice. I handed the toddler back to Frida and jogged over to Éomer and Eorinya.

The girl looked like she wanted to run right over to her dad, but Éomer kept a grip on her, which was probably best. She would have likely not payed attention to the horse hooves below her papa.

But when Eothain was there, he practically ripped Eorinya out of Éomer's arms, wrapping his daughter in raspberries and kisses. I had to bite my tongue to choke down my laughter. These three Riders, who were the scariest beings on Middle-earth when facing a battle, were really just big puppy dogs. Even Erkenbrand wasn't immune to Eorinya and Eonost.

Finally free, Éomer's arms were around me again. "Welcome home," he muttered in my ear, placing a kiss on my neck. He turned us toward the fortress and I was finally able to give it a good look. It wasn't nearly as large or grand and Meduseld, but it was still nice. Built out of wood, like the Golden Hall, it was much less flashy and didn't shine in the brightness of the sun.

When I served for two months in the Third Eored, I had been living in a tent with amongst the men, not even in the city. Many Orcs were still roaming the lands and it was best we were prepared at all hours for an attack or call to arms. I never even entered the fortress. Now, I was the Lady of Aldburg, like Theodwyn had been. I fingered her ring that rested on my finger, the one Éomer had proposed to me with. I had managed to get him a ring of his own, eventually, after paying the blacksmith at Edoras to forge him one. Everything was starting to become so real.

"So, this is where you grew up," I said, trying to hide my nervousness about taking over Frida's job.

"It is. Éowyn and I were both born here and we lived here until I was eleven. That was when Thèoden took us in. I moved back when I was sixteen and joined the Third Eored."

"And you became Marshal and Lord of Aldburg at twenty-two," I said, rolling my eyes. "I am your wife. Give me a little credit."

I suddenly felt a tugging at my pants leg. It was Eorinya, pulling with all her might. "What are you doing?" I said lightly, chuckling at the little girl.

"Mama says Lord Éomer is married!" she said, giving another hearty tug. "He can't hold you and be married!"

Éomer and I both started laughing and Eorinya looked annoyed. "Dear girl, this is my wife," he said, picking her up and bringing her closer to my height.

I gave her a small wave, but she didn't look impressed. She turned to Éomer. "Mama said your wife is pretty. Her hair looks like mud," she whispered.

My jaw dropped and I really didn't know what to say. But Éomer just laughed and grabbed a lock of my hair. "Eorinya, this is not the color of mud. Why, this is the color of the chestnut horses bred in the Eastfold. Didn't you once tell me the chestnuts were your favorite?"

Reluctantly, the little girl nodded.

"And," Éomer continued, whispering into her ear. "Between you and me, I think Lady Rachel the most beautiful woman in all of Arda. But it is fine if you do not agree. However, if you did, she would likely show you how to wield a bow like the one strapped to her back."

I grinned as his words worked magic on the little girl. Some servants had come out of the fortress now, and were unloading my things from the caravan. Frida made her way over to us and Eorinya reached for her mother. "Mama, Lord Éomer says Lady Rachel will teach me how to shoot a bow!"

"Oh, did he?" Frida asked, sounding very much not okay with that prospect.

"Dear Frida, I only meant for her to see Rachel wield the bow," he said, putting his arms around my shoulders. "She is the Bowmaiden, after all. All the women of the city should take to her teachings."

"Do you teach many girls to fight?" Frida asked.

"Only if they're willing," I said. "I have a few pupils back in the Westfold and in Edoras."

"Mama, I wanna learn!" Eorinya said.

I smiled at the little girl and tucked one of her blonde curls behind her ear. "Maybe when you're a bit bigger. I fear practicing bow at this age would make you better than me!"

She giggled as Frida came to collect her. We said goodbye to our friends and started walking into our new home. "She's a sweet kid," I muttered, lacing my fingers through Éomer's.

He laughed. "She called you ugly. That is hardly sweet."

"She only said that because she thinks I'll take you away from her. That kid loves you."

"Her father is a dear friend and comrade. Naturally, I would treat her like family."

"You never told me you were so good with kids."

"Kids are fine. It is babes that scare me."

I laughed as we reached the entrance. "Uruk-hai the size of small trolls come at you and you won't bat an eye. But the tiniest creatures send you running for the hills."

"It is easier to break one thing than keep another safe," he muttered, pulling me into the hall.

It was a simple palace, nowhere near as large as Meduseld's Golden Hall. There were no thrones here, but a large amount of tapestries filled the walls, just like my old home. I noticed a rather large one depicting a figure I recognized as Thengel, Éomer's grandfather. When I first landed here, I thought it strange that the people did not speak Rohirric like they did in the books. I supposed it was because I had landed in the movies. Thèoden had explained to me that Thengel had been raised in Gondor and never spoke Rohirric, only Westron and Sindarin. When Thengel became king, and spoke only those two languages in his hall, Edoras adopted the fashion and it spread throughout the land. Rohirric was only muttered on formal occasions, like it had been the day I was made a Rider. Thèoden had been trying to teach me the Erolingas language, but I was not that good at learning it. Sindarin was much easier for some reason, and I didn't even speak it fluently. Nevertheless, I was happy everyone here seemed to be speaking the same language as me.

I loved the tapestries. Erolingas didn't write many books, but told their history through song and the art of weaving. Meanwhile, all I did lately, cooped up with Thèoden in Edoras, was write stories. At first, Éomer found it strange, but eventually, he grew to accept that the written word was what I knew best, even better than the bow. But there was something innately beautiful about history through tapestries. Maybe it was the fact that whoever weaved this one probably knew Thengel himself, or lived the events depicted. I wasn't sure.

Éomer led me throughout the corridors of the fortress, pointing out directions I would need to know in the future. "That there leads down to the kitchens and that leads to the servants' quarters. Through there is Eothain's study. I suppose it will be my study again. The door beside it is your study—,"

"What do I need a study for?" I asked.

"If ever I'm not here, rule of the city falls to you. It will be the same when we're back in Meduseld." He meant when we were king and queen, and instantly, I was nervous.

"Wait, wait, wait," I said, stopping him with a hand to his chest. "Rule?"

"Yes, rule. Is that confusing?" He laughed, grabbing my hand again and going back to pulling me down the corridor. "True, it's been a long time since there was a queen on the throne in Edoras. Not since my grandmother, Morwen Steelsheen. My aunt Elfhild died before my uncle took the throne. I never knew her. But it is common knowledge the queen rules in the king's stead, if ever he leaves his throne."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "No one told me that."

He brought his hands to my shoulders. "Love, you're shaking."

"Yeah, I'm shaking," I agreed. "Éomer, this is a whole lot to take in. I mean, new home, new job…our wedding was three days ago. We didn't even get a honeymoon."

His eyebrows crinkled. "A what?"

"You know, a vacation. Alone time where it's just the two of us."

"Is this one of your American traditions?" Suddenly, he was serious.

"Well, not just American, but for the purposes of this conversation, then yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know. Thèoden was so adamant on us moving here and everything happened so fast, I guess I didn't have time to think."

He chuckled, pulling me into a hug. "You should have said something."

"You should have warned me about all this."

"You knew you were marrying the heir to the throne."

"I guess there's a lot on that subject I don't really know."

He sighed and pulled me towards the study. "Then how about we think of our time here as practice. There is no reason for me to be leaving Aldburg in the near future." He opened the door, revealing a spacious room. A desk sat in the center of it, with a large fireplace off to the right and large windows on the left. Only one tapestry adorned this room. A blonde woman, her straight hair falling in cascades down her shoulders. On her head was the circlet I had worn at my wedding and on her finger was the moss-colored ring I wore on my own. "That's your mother," I muttered.

"Indeed. My father had this tapestry made for the front hall, and it hung there for some time when Rolstan was Third Marshal. When I took seat here, I had it moved into this room. Since there was no Lady of the House, this room went unused until I gave Eothain and Frida command."

I was well aware of Éomer's every opinion on his family. His father was the reason he never wanted to marry, since he would leave unexpectedly and often, leaving Éomer, Éowyn, and their mother at home, waiting it out. Theodwyn…that one was more complicated. While Eomund had been taken from his family by Orcs, Theodwyn had simply given up after her husband had died. Many compared it to the heartbreak of Elves, passing on after their love was taken. It had taken Éomer a long time to come to terms with his mother's death.

"So, what exactly do we do here?" I asked.

He had been staring at the tapestry, like me, but my question brought him out of his pondering. "Well, I fear Aldburg runs quite a bit simpler than Edoras. You can't tell me the whole time you were attending to my uncle you didn't learn anything?"

"He mostly just talked with advisors, listened to complaints of the villagers, or read a lot of papers."

"That's what we do here, save the advisor part," Éomer said. "In a way, I serve as an advisor to Thèoden from my post here, so I need none of my own. It's the simple running of the town."

"There's got to be more to it than that," I said.

"Well, the structure is a fortress," Éomer said, leaning against a wooden post. "As a fortress, it is often attacked. Not so much after the vanishing of Orcs, but many still live out in the mountains. Twice they've been seen, but never have they taken on the city."

I nodded, giving the room another sweep with my eyes. "This isn't the room I wanted to show you," Éomer muttered. "I only wished to calm your nerves."

"Oh, I know exactly what room you wanted to show me," I teased, taking his hand again.

"Rooms, actually," he said, emphasizing the plural. He led me out of the study and further down the hall to a flight of stairs. Up the stars we went and we were suddenly facing a pair of doors. He opened the one to the right and led me inside. "Iellwan, the Lady of the house during the time of King Goldwine, was Gondorian, so you can imagine how scandalous she considered a husband and wife sharing a single room. So the Lord's quarters was split in half, creating two separate chambers. This is the Lady's."

"I doubt it'll get used much," I said, glancing over the bed, fireplace, vanity, and wardrobe.

He chuckled, walking over to a door on the west wall. "Of course, Lady Lassiel, who succeeded Lady Iellwan, had this door built, leading to her husband's chambers."

"You sure do know a lot about the fortress's architecture," I said, following him into the room.

"They were questions I had as a child," he muttered. "I wondered why my mother needed an entirely separate bedroom from my father that she didn't even use. Even at ten years old, I thought it strange."

"It's weird, hearing you talk about your family so much. Most of the time I have to pry it out of you."

He lay down on the bed, falling into the sheets. This room was almost identical to the one it was connected to. The only difference was the stand for armor over in the corner and my trunks from the cart that had been delivered. I fell into the bed beside my husband, sinking into the mattress. "I suppose it's this place," he muttered, propping his head up on his elbow above me. "I'm sure if we were at your childhood home, you would share as much as you could with me."

"I don't doubt it," I said. "Too bad that can't happen."

"That doesn't mean you can't share from memory, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Now look who's prying."

He reached over to stroke my face. "I apologize. I've had eighteen years to come to terms with my parents' passing. I forget that your time has been much less. Perhaps we should talk of something else."

"We could talk about how good you are with Eothain and Frida's kids. How come you never mentioned that?"

"I don't know," he mused. "Perhaps it is because I don't think of myself as good with children as you seem to think I am."

"Are you kidding? You're a natural!"

"Rachel," he said, putting his hands on his face and falling back into the mattress. "Why do you keep bringing this up?"

"Did you forget I used to make a living taking care of children? Camp counselor is really just a glorified babysitter in the woods."

"And what's the real reason? Is it so you can talk about the pain we endured last month yet again?"

Ouch, that hurt. I sat up and pulled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my boots. "Don't you understand that I have to talk about it?" I muttered. "I can't ignore it like you try to. With the planning of the wedding and packing for Aldburg, we haven't even had a rational conversation about it."

He let out a sigh and I felt the mattress shift as he sat back up and placed a kiss on the top of my head. "Then let's talk about it."

I didn't move from my fetal position. All I did was place my chin on my knees. "What happened in Rivendell really fucked with my head," I mumbled. "And it got me thinking about what you must have been thinking and I realized I had no idea. I mean, we both mourned, but I don't know what you think now. Without thinking about the Mark's need of an heir, do you even want children anymore after that?"

He didn't answer for a long pause. "I suppose my answer is undecided. You are so hopeful after seeing me with Eothain's children, yet that is for fifteen minutes of the day to two children who would be easily distracted if I were to never return to their sides. You know I have animosity towards fatherhood—,"

"You used to have animosity towards marriage," I argued.

"Until I met you."

"Okay then," I said, turning toward him and glaring down his green eyes. "What went through your mind when Erkenbrand told you I was pregnant? "

I could tell by his posture that he was greatly uncomfortable with this conversation, but I didn't care. We were gonna have it. We needed to have it. "I suppose the first thing was my concern for you. You were in the wild with three strange men I did not know. That worried me greatly. Then there was the fact Kristen had informed me of your affliction, which made it seem impossible that you could even be with child. And, of course, my own guilt for breaking my promise and bedding you before we were wed."

"You know I thought that promise was stupid," I said, giving another eye roll. "But you were on the road for two weeks, Éomer, with no company other than your own thoughts. You can't tell me fatherhood didn't even cross your mind."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I did ponder it, yes. And the conclusion that I came to was that I was not ready. Yes, I would be there for you and not abandon my responsibilities as a father, but in all truths, I was terrified, Rachel. I am still terrified at the prospects."

"And what went through your mind when you learned I had miscarried?"

"Fear that something had happened to you. I suppose the loss of the twins did not even cross my mind until I saw you were physically safe. And while I was deeply saddened by the loss, I'll not deny a small part of me was relieved."

I stood up from the bed. "That is not what I thought you would say."

"You wanted to talk about it. This is why I kept my thoughts to myself. I knew they would upset you."

"So when I told you I didn't want to give up hope, all that stuff about defying the odds and promises to Thèoden was just you telling me what I wanted to hear?"

"Please do not get angry," he said, standing up with me.

"You just said the death of our twins was a relief. I am way past angry, Éomer."

"I did not mean it like that." He grabbed me by my shoulders. "Please look at me," he begged, and I did. His eyes showed such a pained look from this conversation and I was regretting the entire thing. This was not how either of us wanted to spend our first night in Aldburg, and now it was ruined. "I meant what I said the night of our wedding. We will fulfill your promise to Thèoden and we will defy the odds. But I am not ready. I want to be, but I am simply not. I know not how to be a father, Rachel. But you…I know you will make a fantastic mother. But before that happens, perhaps it could just be us for a while. Eventually, I will be ready, when the time comes."

His promise felt empty. I wanted to believe him, but I was hesitant. And after what he said about the twins, I was beyond pissed, but not for the reasons he thought. But I had to admit, I had asked for it. Walked right into a trap I set up for myself.

With a small cough, I walked out of his grasp. "We should go to bed. Frida has a big day planned for me tomorrow and I'm sure you and Eothain have some things that need to be discussed."

I made for one of the trunks I knew contained my clothes, but Éomer stopped me, wrapping his hand around my wrist. "Please do not go to bed angry with me," he begged.

"I just wish you hadn't said you were relieved," I muttered. _Because I was also relieved that I could easily return to you without that obstacle in the way_. I didn't say it out loud because it sounded so bad. "Obstacle" was another word I didn't like. Yet, it was the only one I could find.

* * *

Another nightmare found me that night. Perhaps it was because of my conversation with Éomer that I dreamed about the miscarriage for the first time since returning to Edoras. The pain and the blood. "It's a miscarriage, Rachel," being muttered by Legolas over and over again.

Then, Legolas started shaking me and his mutterings changed. "Wake up. It's a nightmare, Rachel. You must wake."

It wasn't Legolas. It was Éomer, lying beside me and gently shaking me awake. When he saw my eyes were open, he pulled me into his arms. "That's the first nightmare you've had in a while," he said, rubbing at my arm. I didn't respond, so he continued. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What time is it?" I asked, ignoring the question.

"Almost morning. The sun is only just rising."

"I should get dressed," I said, pulling the sheets off my legs. "Frida will be here soon."

"Frida has two restless children and a recently returned husband. She will not be here until after breakfast," he said, tightening his hold on me so I couldn't move. "We should not have gone to bed as we did, Rachel. We must talk about it."

"It ruined our night. Must it ruin our morning as well?"

"No," he protested. "You were right. We needed to have that conversation. Now we must finish it."

I collapsed back into my pillows. "I was pissed about your choice of words," I said, running my hands through my hair. "Mostly because they made so much sense."

"I don't understand."

"For almost nine weeks, I cursed the fact that the pregnancy was the one thing keeping me from running back to you. It was so…conflicting. I left because Rohan needed an heir I couldn't provide. Then, all of a sudden I could. But nothing was resolved because if I had returned it would have been too late. You couldn't marry me if I was pregnant."

"Says who?" he argued. "There's no law against it. I feel most would have understood the situation."

"I didn't know that at the time," I said, before continuing. "But then the miscarriage happened and suddenly, it was so easy for me to return. But then Elrond said it would probably never happen again. And I felt so bad for feeling…relieved."

"Oh, my love," he said, pulling me into his arms again. "If it was meant to be, the Valar would not have taken it from you. Clearly neither of us were ready to be parents. Perhaps they are making us wait."

"Do you really think this is the work of Gods who live two weeks away by sea?"

"How do you know it to be two weeks?"

"The same way I knew a good bit of the future during the war."

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his bare chest that my head rested against. "I know the Valar have a plan for us. We just have to wait to see what it is."

I reached my neck up to kiss his cheek, which was stubbly and scratchy from his pre-wedding shave. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to stop being angry now."

He laughed for real, then, bringing his mouth upon my own. I took that as a _yes_.

 _End of Book 2_

* * *

That's it! Book 3 will start next Sunday! Anything you desperately want to see? Any questions that you must have answered? send a review and let me know!


	19. Unhappy

_Book 3: Lady of Fire_

 _Chapter 1: Unhappy_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Aldburg, Rohan_

-Rachel-

I looked out over the vast field, wondering if it were even possible. This whole area, four miles from Aldburg along the river Snowbourne, was completely unsettled. There was no better place to build a summer camp. Unfortunately, summer camps and Middle-earth didn't really mix.

I jumped as a pair of arms encircled my waist, picking me up off the ground. But it was only Éomer, sneaking up on me and planting a kiss on the back of my neck. I laughed as I tried to get free, but his arms were too strong. Instead I turned around and whacked him on the chest. "Don't do that!"

He smiled, stepping back, giving me an exaggerated bow. "I do apologize, my lady. I only wished for a kiss."

I rolled my eyes, and grabbed his face, still low from his bow and kissed him gently on the lips. I pulled back, giving him a small smile. "How's that?"

"I suppose it's fine for now," he said, lacing his fingers through my own. "We should head back to Aldburg. Tis nearly evening meal."

"Are you finished?" I asked. I had ridden out here with him after Frida told me to get out of the house. Éomer had been riding to all the stables in Aldburg, as it was fouling season.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer. "I am for the whole day. So, perhaps after dinner…"

I resisted the urge to laugh at his wagging eyebrows and sunk my forehead into his chest. "I bled this morning," I said, not wanting to look him in the eye.

It had only been two months since our wedding. No one actually expected me to be pregnant at this point, but it hadn't gone unnoticed. Especially by the staff at Aldburg. It's not as if we were discreet in our sexual endeavors. We decided it was best to keep the PCOS between the two of us, Erkenbrand, and Hilda. The latter would be looking to retire any day now and I had yet to find a replacement, mostly because I didn't want yet another new face in my life right now.

He sighed and wrapped his arms back around me. "It is no matter. I shall simply hold you in my arms." Though he tried to hide it, I could hear the relief in his voice.

I retrieved Windfola, who had been grazing at the bare field. I followed Éomer and Firefoot back to Aldburg's fortress.

* * *

-Éomer-

"I've had a letter today," I said when we were almost done eating. "I wanted to tell you when you made it to Friwine's farm, but I thought it best to wait until we were behind closed doors."

She raised her eyebrows, instantly concerned. "Is it bad news?" she asked.

I laughed, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the letter. "It is a most excellent news," I said, handing her the envelope. She ripped it open. _Dearest sister and Éomer_ , it read.

 _In this letter, I bring you news of great joy. Kristen has given birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy this thirtieth of July. We shall celebrate his name-day in the coming two weeks and would be honored if you both would attend your nephew's celebration. This is truly a time to rejoice and we wish for our family to be there._

 _Please send word of your answer back with my messenger and we shall prepare you a room. If you are in knowledge of the whereabouts of Claire, I would ask that you send news of my son's birth to her, as I do not know her location._

 _Anxiously awaiting your response,_

 _Faramir_

Her jaw dropped and I let out another laugh, rising from my chair and pulling her into a hug. "Isn't it splendid news?"  
"You almost gave me a heart attack!" she nearly yelled. "I thought something had happened to Thèoden."

I tightened the hug, unable to control my laugher. "I feel as if I would be much more serious in that event."

"Did you respond yet?" she asked.

"I wrote it, but haven't sent it," I muttered. "You do want to go?"  
"Of course I want to go. This is my first nephew. And I've never been to a name-day before."

"Gondorian name-days are a bit different than Rohan's. Here, births are celebrated by feasts and songs. I suspect over there it will be a dapper affair with small glasses of wine and proper dancing."

"Your distaste for Gondorian culture will never be kept quiet, will it?"

I grinned, pulling her up from the chair. "It would be fine if they would simply unstiffen their backs every so often."

She let out a sigh as I led us to our bedchambers. I thought she would be more excited, but perhaps it hadn't sunk in yet. "I need a bath," she said. "It was a hot and sweaty day following you around."

I kissed her on the cheek, her skin as smooth as always. "I'll fetch someone to draw you one."

* * *

"Milady, it would do you well to not cut your hair," I heard Hilda say. Rachel was in the Lady's chambers with her maid, fighting a losing battle.

"I know, Hilda. I don't think I will cut it. It's not like I ride out unexpectantly anymore. It's really no longer a nuisance."

I grinned. Hilda, it seemed, had finally won the battle of the haircuts. Rachel's hair in the last two months had grown past her shoulders. "I quite like the short hair," I called through the open door that separated the rooms.

"With all due respect, my lord," Hilda chipped. "I grow quite agitated when my lady's hair is shorter than her husband's."

"As a good maid should," I complemented.

She didn't respond, and I imagined I made her blush. "Will there be anything else, milady?" she asked.

"No, Hilda, thank you."

I heard old maid leave. Rachel came in through the door and plopped beside me on the bed. Hesitantly, I brought up what had been bothering me about Faramir's letter. "Will you be alright in Ithilian?"

My wife let out a small sigh. "I have a feeling it'll be different with Kristen. She's my sister and her child is my family."

"Aye. I am very anxious to meet our new nephew."

She closed her eyes, laying her head down on my chest. "So am I."

She must have really tired after our long day of riding, because she fell asleep almost instantly. Most nights I did not like watching her sleep. The Black Breath would take her and it would be a struggle for her to gain some rest, but tonight, she did not stir, which kept me at ease. She simply lay against my chest, her breathing slow and warm coming from her slightly parted lips, ruffling the hairs on my skin.

I tried not to dwell on my worries. Every time Rachel saw a child these days, she would get this look in her eyes, somewhere between sadness and longing. Our conversation from our first night here left her timid of the very topic. I knew my words that night had displeased her, but it was the truth. I was not yet ready for fatherhood. And honestly, in this state, she wasn't ready to be a mother.

I wanted her to be excited after hearing Faramir's news and her reaction was not at all as I hoped. I suppose I treated it as a sort of test to see if she was healing at all from the miscarriage. That did not appear to be the case.

I tried not to worry about these things, even though they constantly popped into my head at the most inconvenient times. I just wanted to hold her and watch this rare moment of peaceful sleep, feeling her breath on my skin.

* * *

After a vigorous week of packing and leaving Eothain and Frida to mind Aldburg, Rachel and I were set to leave. I lowered my guard to two soldiers, a trusted new Rider named Rimbon and Erkenbrand. Rachel did not like having a guard, even though I found it necessary. However, Rachel had taken a liking to Rimbon and she and Erkenbrand were old friends so I figured my choices would earn little complaint from her.

She said very little the last week and now on the road. Erkenbrand was starting to give me strange looks. A silent conversation took place between the two of us. _What is the matter with you two?_

 _I don't know._

 _Well, ask her._

I cleared my throat as Erkenbrand distracted Rimbon, giving us what little privacy we had. "Rachel, is something wrong?"

"You've been asking me that every day for a week," she said, keeping her eyes on the road.

"You don't seem like yourself," I said.

She shook her head. "I just…I don't know, Éomer. Must we talk of this now?"

"When would you like to talk about it?" She didn't answer. "Love, I know something is on your mind and I would have you share it."

With a deep breath, she started. "I've been thinking about it all week after getting Faramir's letter. I think I should stay in Ithilian for a while."

That was not what I was expecting. I pulled Firefoot forward, cutting Windfola off. Rachel looked annoyed, but I wasn't much concerned at the moment. "What are you talking about?"

"I just thought some time with Kristen would be good for me. Frida can handle the fortress for a few weeks."

"'A few weeks'?" I repeated.

"That's not that long," she defended, jumping off Windfola and leading the horse around Firefoot with the reins.

I dismounted Firefoot, walking beside her. What was going on? "You thought you would stay in Ithilian without even informing me of it?"

"I was going to tell you last night, but you didn't get back from the village until after I had gone to bed."

"And how do you know Faramir can even guest you in his house presently?"

A look flashed across her face. "I sent him a letter asking if I could when you responded to the name-day invite. His reply came yesterday and they'd be happy to have me."

"You've been planning this for a week and you didn't tell me?" Now I was angry. "Why would you keep this from me?"

"Because I knew you'd talk me out of it," she said, her voice starting to shake. "Every day is the same thing. It's so…mundane. I really don't even feel like myself anymore. You don't want me visiting with the Riders and I can't take Windfola out without a three-man guard. I feel like there's nothing in the city that's mine."

"You have me," I said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Is that not enough?"

"We've barely spoken since our conversation the first night we got to Aldburg."

"And you think the solution to that is spending time away from me in Ithilian?"

"I just want to be with my sisters," she said, trying to get out of my grip. I wouldn't let her. "Can we please continue on the road? We're losing daylight, Éomer."

"Rachel," I muttered, lowering myself to her height. She was still trying to avoid eye-contact. "If you are unhappy, you need only say it."

For the first time in the conversation, her eyes met my own and they were wet with incoming tears. "I'm unhappy," she whispered before trying to get out of my grip again. I tried to keep hold, but Windfola nipped my wrist, ever loyal to her mistress. She mounted the mare and took off at full speed, a pace I could not easily follow.

Rimbon took off after her and Erkenbrand stayed with me. "For the life of me, Erkenbrand, I will never understand the mind of a woman," I said, mounting Firefoot once again.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm too 'mundane'. At least, that's what I can figure."

Erkenbrand let out a hardy chuckle. "Éomer, lad, you are anything but mundane."

"She says she's unhappy. So unhappy she is on the verge of tears. I've not a clue why."

"Well, I'll not deny she has seemed a little down these past few weeks. At her birthday celebrations early July was the last time she really seemed like herself to me. Since then, she shows little enthusiasm for anything."

"I just wish she wouldn't keep things from me. It's for that very reason I'm only hearing about this now."

"I know you don't want a big speech on marriage," Erkenbrand said. "But I fear you may need to step into her boots for a moment. Your life is virtually unchanged by your union, Éomer. The only difference is, you're back at Aldburg now instead of courting her in Edoras. She gave up everything to marry you. Her position in the First Eored, her closeness to Thèoden King. Not to mention what she went through in Rivendell brought her back to Rohan a changed woman. Not many know of the miscarriage, but everyone noticed she had changed when she returned."

"I did not notice."

"Love makes one blind, lad. Or at least short-sighted. She doesn't eat as much as she used to. Hilda tells me she roams the halls at night, unable to sleep. When you're not around, she is ghost-like. I think she tries to hide it from you."

She and Rimbon were so far ahead now, they were but dots in the distance. "Why did no one tell me?"

"It's no one's business but yours. People don't like to meddle in marriages. I'm only telling you these things because you asked."

I let out a sigh and felt my old friend clap me on the back. "I just wish I knew what to do."

"Perhaps give her what she wants. Stuck in Aldburg, she might appear to run the household, but it's done mostly by the housekeeper. Even if you don't think it best, maybe you should let her make her own decisions for a while."

And with that, he kicked Frost forward, forcing me to speed up Firefoot.

* * *

Rimbon pitched us a small tent that night. Rachel was reluctant to even look at me as she pulled off her boots and climbed into her bedroll. I was thankful for the privacy from our guard as I took Erkenbrand's advice to heart. She fidgeted a bit before finding comfort in her furs and I sat beside her, stroking the fine hairs at the base of her head. I loved the feeling of the tiny tickles it sent through the tips of my fingers.

"Aren't you going to bed?" she muttered, looking up at me for the first time since she rode off with Rimbon.

"I don't want sleep to find me when I'm this distressed," I said, tucking a lock behind her ear. "I've been doing some thinking, love," I said reluctantly, forcing the words out of my mouth. "Maybe you're right. Staying in Ithilian with your sisters for a time could be good. Not only for us, but for you and them as well. You once told me the longest you and Kristen had gone without speaking had been two days. Now you go for months. Claire is not in the best condition now, either, and spending time with her is important."

"Nice speech," she muttered, sitting up in the cot. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"We're headed towards a happy destination," I said. "There is no need for fighting."

"I'm sorry I lost it out on the plains. I don't know what's with me lately."

I pulled her into my arms and felt her head rest on my shoulder. "All you needed to say was that you were unhappy. I would go to any length to keep that from happening, even if you need some time apart."

"I don't want to be apart, that's the problem."

I ran my hand slowly up and down her back. "Then what is the problem?"

"Aldburg…it's not my home. In Edoras you and Thèoden were always there. I had the entire First Eored and their families for company. I had purpose. In Aldburg all I have is you. I can't spend time with Eothain and Frida because their children constantly remind me of what I can't have. Erkenbrand is hardly ever around. None of the girls in the village are interested in learning anything I can teach. It's…so isolating."

"And that's why you want to be with your sisters," I concluded. "Say no more, my love. I do not mind if you stay in Ithilian for the time being." I pulled her head from my shoulder, pushing her hair behind her ears. "I only wish you had told me sooner."

A small smile peeked out at the corners of her lips. "Why are you so good to me?"

I placed a small kiss on her forehead. "Because I love you."

* * *

 _Please Review!_


	20. Flynn

_Chapter 2: Flynn_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Rachel-

The rest of the trip was pleasant enough. When we arrived at the gates of Emyn Arnen after sunset, Faramir's guard captain, Dothrir, was waiting for us. "Ithilian welcomes the Prince and Princess of Rohan," he said in a loud voice as the gates opened for us. I didn't like using the title princess, and I knew Éomer wasn't too keen on prince, either, but in Gondor we used their respective terminology. It was easier for the people to understand "Prince and Princess of Rohan" more than "Lord and Lady of Aldburg".

Our horses were taken to the stables as we were lead to Faramir's palace in the city. It was structured similarly to Minas Tirith, though its levels were not distinctive and it was not built into a mountain. Obviously, they lived much simpler than Aragorn and Arwen in the White City, but I still loved the quaintness of this one.

"Rachel!" Faramir exclaimed as Éomer and I walked through the door. Instantly, I was in his embrace. "I am so pleased you've come." He had bags under his eyes, looking like he hadn't slept in days, but they still held a twinkle of newfound love in them and his enthusiasm was infectious.

"We wouldn't miss this for the world," I said, hugging him back.

"Congratulations, brother," Éomer said, holding out his hand. I winked at my husband, knowing that he and Faramir did not always see eye to eye. I was happy he was not only trying, but he actually meant his words. Faramir grasped his hand for a moment, a smile on his face.

"So, where is he?" I asked. My stomach started flipping, but not like it normally did. There was resentment, but also excitement. I wanted to meet the newest member of my family.

"He is in our bedroom with Kristen. She rarely leaves his side." He started leading us through the house.

"You didn't write us his name."

Faramir smiled. "Flynn. Kristen says it is the name of a great prince from your realm."

It took everything I had not to burst out with laughter, which was strange after going so long without the urge to do so. Kristen named her son after Flynn Rider from _Tangled_? Classic.

"Flynn, Son of Faramir," Éomer said. "Tis a strong name."

Faramir opened a door up a couple flights of stairs and we were pushed inside a large room, its fireplace shining a warm glow around the walls. Kristen was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner that also held a cradle. Her face broke out in a wide smile as she held one hand to her lips and another around a blue bundle. I snaked my way over, getting a peak at my nephew.

His bald head poked out of the tiny circle in the bundle of blanket. Bright pink and slightly wrinkly, he was breathing slowly, one tiny hand resting against his face. I grabbed Kristen's hand in my own and gave it a squeeze. She made that tiny spark of life right there in her arms. It was amazing to behold. I must have stood there for an hour, just watching his face as he slept.

I felt Éomer's arm on my shoulder and it brought me back to reality. I turned back and looked right into my husband's green eyes. He watched Flynn and in his eyes, I saw it. It wasn't longing or distress. It was sadness and curiosity fueled by the one thing I could not give him. And my stomach sank. All remembrances of Rivendell came flooding back inside me. I should be pregnant with twins. But they were gone. All I had was an empty womb. This is why I had run away. I couldn't give Éomer this. I would never see his eyes glow as Faramir's did.

I let go of Kristen's hand and ran out of the room, yanking my shoulder from Éomer's grip. I ran through the halls to the room I normally stayed in when I came to Emyn Arnen. My arms wrapped around my chest and the hyperventilation started. I couldn't breathe, my body wouldn't let me. Spots clouded my vision as the sharp breaths worked in and out of my lungs much too quickly. I heard the door open and large familiar arms started to wrap around me.

I fought to get free, batting my arms at the figure. I grabbed at fabric, hearing it tear. But he only trapped my arms under his own. When I realized I could no longer struggle, I collapsed, sinking into his body, tears streaming from my eyes.

"Shh," he crooned. "All is well, my love. Do not cry."

It was Éomer. Of course it was Éomer. Why was he so perfect? I had just landed multiple strong punches to his chest, ripped his shirt. Why was he telling me everything was alright?

"Stop," I demanded though the tears. "Stop saying everything is alright when it's not."

"This has upset you greatly," he said. "We should not have come."

"Shut up!" I yelled, trying to push him away. He would not let me. "This is why I ran away, Éomer. Don't you see?"

"Rachel, we do not need to talk about this now. You are too distressed."

"Did you lie to me?" I yelled. "I saw your face when you looked at that baby. Did you lie when you said you weren't ready to keep me from feeling guilty? Don't you understand that I can't give that to you, Éomer?"

He stayed quiet, letting me calm down as he stroked my back. Away from Flynn, I was able to get composed. When I stopped shaking, he spoke again. "I know you want what Kristen and Faramir have. I swear on Bema, I never lied to you. But, I will admit, seeing the look in Faramir's eyes as he watched his son sleep…perhaps someday I will want it too. But that desire changes nothing. All I have ever wanted was you. It is selfish to want more, and I will not be selfish. I do not expect the impossible from you, Rachel. And if we find ourselves on our deathbeds, old and decrepit and childless, it makes no difference. I will still have everything I ever wanted out of life. Don't you understand that?"

With his guard down, I was finally able to push out of his arms. "One day, I won't be enough," I said, voicing my greatest fear. "For now, early in our marriage, we are fine that it's just the two of us. But in five years, will you still feel the same? No, Éomer, you won't. You will grow to resent me for this burden I've placed on both of our shoulders. I will go down in Rohirric history as the barren queen who let the House of Eorl fall."

He stared at me, confused. "Is this what's been distressing you in Aldburg?"

I could not answer, for a knock sounded on the door, causing us both to jump. Without waiting for a reply, Kristen entered, looking nervous. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was tactless of me to invite you after the miscarriage. I know you both must still be struggling with that."

"No, Kristen," Éomer said, walking over to her. "Do not let our misfortunes cloud your happiness. You have a beautiful babe and we are both in joy over that. But it doesn't make it any less hard, no."

My back turned from them. I didn't want Kristen to see my face. "Rachel?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I muttered to the wall. "Just…tired from the trip."

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "Should I send some dinner up from the kitchens? Faramir and I have been eating in the nursery since the birth."

"Thank you, sister," Éomer said. And even though I couldn't see either of them, I knew he was giving her a warm smile or a pat on the shoulder.

I heard the door shut and the bed shift. Éomer must have sat down. "I wish you would believe me," he muttered. "When I say that it does not matter."

"I do believe you," I said, turning back to him. "I just don't believe your feelings won't change."

"Come here," he said, holding out his arms. I wanted to resist, but what I told Kristen was not a lie. I really was quite tired. I walked to the bed and fell into his arms and let him wrap them around me. My gut tugged when I saw the tear in his collar that I had created. "I want nothing more this week to celebrate in the birth of our nephew," he muttered into my ear. "However, we obviously are having a miscommunication."

"There are a number of things on my mind with all my free time in Aldburg," I admitted. "Yes, this is one of them."

"Are you sure you want to stay here with that babe if it's to cause you so much pain."

"Flynn isn't what caused this."

I felt his arms tense up. "Did…did I cause it?" he muttered. Shit, foot-in-mouth disease. I couldn't come up with a reply fast enough. "This is why you wanted away from Aldburg, isn't it?"

I pulled out of his arms. I was too tired to explain this rationally. "Éomer that came out wrong. Everything I said on the plains was the truth. But right now, I'm tired and you keep dragging this out. You're the last person I want to be away from right now."

He let out a sharp breath from his nostrils. "Then you would not be opposed to me staying in Ithilian with you?"

"What?" That was unexpected.

"Only if you want me to," he said. "If you'd rather just have the time for your sisters, I understand. But Eothain and Frida can handle Aldburg for three weeks, at least. And we never did get that holiday you mentioned."

"A honeymoon?"

"Yes, that. Ridiculous name, though. The moon bares absolutely no resemblance to honey."

He was babbling now and I knew it was hard for him to ask this. I fell back into his arms, wrapping them tightly around his neck. "You would do that for me?"

"Only if you manage not to choke me," he gasped. I laughed, removing my arms.

For the first time in a long time, things were going to be okay.

* * *

-Éomer-

I sent Rachel back to Kristen and her nephew without me and decided to check on Rimbon and Erkenbrand in the stables.

"So, she's decided to holiday in Ithilian?" Erkenbrand asked when I walked through.

"We both did, actually."

Rimbon's eyes flashed, but he said nothing. Erkenbrand on the other hand, had no problem calling me a dunce. "What about Aldburg?"

"The fortress is safe without me. There hasn't been an attack for three months. I'll send a letter to Eothain and let him know. If anything happens, I'll ride like the wind to get there."

"But we were only supposed to be in Ithilian through the week."

"Do you have something important to do in Aldburg?" I asked.

"I suppose not," he said.

"Then there's no problem. Faramir will treat you both well. A break would do us all good."

We were interrupted by the stable door opening. A parade of horses came into the stables, one right after the other, all of different color and breed. Men wearing armor of the White Tree were leading the horses, but there was something different than the average Gondorian soldier. Also on their tunics was the picture of a swan. The symbol to Dol Amroth, another city of Gondor. Three soldiers there were, leading eight horses. A fourth person helped bring in the beasts, but was so small, I didn't notice at first.

It was a young woman, perhaps younger than Rachel. Her black hair was in a delicate braid atop her head. She was as small as Kristen in height, though the latter had gained weight in pregnancy, as was expected, and the girl's width was similar to the Kristen I had originally met. I knew not who she was, though she looked more like Kristen's sister than Rachel did, at least through looks.

She carried the reins of two horses. Rimbon and I each grabbed one and Erkenbrand made to open a stall. The girl smiled brightly at me, showing me her beautiful face and upon further inspection, I realized she was indeed younger than Rachel. She could still be a teenager. "Thank you. Are you the stable hands?" she asked us.

Rimbon looked nervous for my response, but I was not insulted. This girl did not know my face and I was not dressed particularly royal in any way. Rimbon's features calmed as Erkenbrand and I let out a shared chuckle. "No, my lady. I am Éomer, Son of Eomund. Third Marshal to the Riddermark. These are my guards, Rimbon and Erkenbrand, both trusted Riders of Rohan."

Her eyes widened with shock and she bowed her head. "I meant no disrespect."

"None has been given," I assured her.

Her face seemed to calm at that. "Pleased I am to meet Men of Rohan, my lord. I am Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth."

"Prince Imrahil's daughter?" I asked. She nodded. "A good friend your father was to Gondor during the war, as were your brothers. Commendable they were for their services."

"Thank you, Marshal Éomer," she said curtly. In fact, she sounded rather annoyed. "I am sure my father and brothers would love to hear your praises, but I must ask that you not utter them to me, for the war was an unpleasant time in my country, where I was left at too young an age to rule in my family's absence. I saw too much too soon and I would rather not dwell on it." She paused before adding, "With all due respect."

"Then no more of those harsh times will be spoken of by me in your presence, princess," I said. After dealing with Rachel's mood-swings from the last few days, talking to this girl was far easier.

"Forgive me, my lord. I do not know much of the world outside Gondor. I have yet to even meet my cousin Kristen, for I attended her wedding, but we never spoke. I only know your name as my father had mentioned how he fought by your side at the Black Gate."

"There is no need to ask forgiveness, princess," I said as she turned to stroke the mane of one of the mares behind her. "You have a love of horses?" I asked.

"Once must always care for their pets. I love all animals, but horses have always held a special place in my heart. So majestic are these creatures and as mere Men, we depend on them for so many things. Transportation, trade, even livelihood. One of the greatest joys I have is riding Tilly here along the beaches of Dol Amroth."

"I have never ridden on sand. I would imagine the hooves would sink into the grains."

"Not at all. Though, I'm sure the terrain of Dol Amroth differs greatly from that of the Riddermark. It might not be to your liking."

"Perhaps I shall have to try it someday, my lady. I have always wanted to see the ocean."

She smiled sheepishly. "I should find my brothers. I only wished to see my horse to her temporary home."

I nodded. "It was very nice to make your acquaintance, Princess Lothiriel," I said with a bow. The other guards had already left the sable as she returned my gesture and left the building.

I watched her walk away until a cough sounded behind me. Rimbon was still here, as was Erkenbrand, the latter's face holding a look of astonishment. The net thing I knew, he whacked me in the back of the head. "You dolt!"

"Please, feel free to speak candidly," I said, drawing out the sarcasm. "What have I done now?"

"Perhaps that is not the best way to solve your present issue."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You were quite…friendly with the princess, milord," Rimbon said, speaking up for the first time. "Your mere presence sent her flushing."

"Yes, I was friendly. I'm always friendly."

"No, you're always stoic and curt," Erkenbrand said. "That was trifling. How many times must I beat it into your thick skull that you are married now?"

I rolled my eyes. "I have done nothing wrong and will not apologize for it. Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to give Firefoot a brushing then I'm headed to bed. I suggest you both do the same."


	21. Territory

_Chapter 3: Territory_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Rachel-

Éomer left to tend to the horses and I finally got to spend some time with Kristen. When I made my way to her room, I half expected her and Faramir to be asleep and Flynn with a nanny. But Flynn's screams echoed through the hall, and I knew neither of them could be in bed. Kristen paced the room with the blue bundle of her son, attempting to rock him to sleep. She looked completely exhausted and managed a nod while keeping the baby bouncing. "He won't stop crying. It's been an hour," she said. "I sent Faramir to his study to get some sleep. Flynn won't let me feed him, he's not wet. I don't know what to do."

"Don't you have a nanny?" I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't get me started on that. I've been trying to hire one for weeks, but I haven't found a single one I've liked. And then, the stupid midwife tried to get me to hire a wet nurse, can you believe that?" she said.

I laughed. "They actually have wet nurses in Middle-earth? I guess it makes sense, when you think about it."

"Do you want to try?" she asked. "Without a nanny, I need all the help I can get."

I shifted nervously on my feet. "I wouldn't want to make it worse," I said.

"C'mon, dude. Let the kid meet his aunt. I know you're still upset about the miscarriage, but you can't let it run your life."

Kristen always had a way of snapping me back into reality and I knew for sure now that staying here was the right choice. I held out my arms and she placed the squirming baby in them. He was stronger than I thought he would be. His blanket was loose around his body. "Did you swaddle him?" I asked.

"Did I what?"

"Swaddle him in the blanket?"

"Don't know what that means."

I walked over to the crib, laying him down inside. As if it were possible, he wailed even louder. I would be surprised if all of Emyn Arnen were awake. I tightly wrapped the blue blanket around him, tucking in the folds so they wouldn't loosen. He continued to scream until I picked him up, holding him close to my chest and rocking him as Kristen had been doing. He didn't fall asleep, but he stopped crying after a few minutes.

"Jesus Christ," she said, looking at her son. "Aunt of the year, you are. He does that every night. Faramir and I had no clue what to do."

"Should have hired a nanny sooner. That's what they're for."

"I don't need a lecture, thank you." I started to hand him back but she held up her arms. "Hell no. I haven't been free in a week."

As I held him, I grew more and more aware of the fact of what he represented to me. My one in a million chance that had escaped me. I sat down in the rocking chair and Kristen collapsed on the floor. "So, how was it? Giving birth?" I asked.

She let out a sigh. "I wish you could have been there. You'd have been much more help than that stupid midwife. I don't really know how to describe it. It was seriously painful, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't that painful. It helped that Faramir was there, holding my hand. It gave me something to squeeze. The midwife didn't want him there, but I told her she'd lose her wages if he wasn't let into the room."

"Legolas held my hand during the miscarriage," I muttered as Flynn's left hand escaped the blanket and looked for something to grab. I put my finger in the small space and he grasped it with his tiny hand. So tiny. I looked back at Kristen, who looked ready to crash. "So, Flynn Rider, huh?"

She laughed with me, her shoulders bouncing. "Faramir wanted to name him something weird, you know. One of those Middle-earth names where the dad and son's name are super similar. Like Éomer and Eomund. I thought it was weird. Flynn was the only name we could agree on."

"Faramir knows that Flynn Rider is just a character right? He's not a 'great prince'. And, if you recall, he was actually a thief."

"He was a prince because he married Rapunzel. And how do you know he's not real? Look where we are right now. Look who we're married to."

"Touché," I said as Flynn moved my finger into his mouth. I didn't mind. He suckled it like a binky. "I think he may be hungry," I said.

Kristen sighed and held out her arms. "Give him here." I handed him over she unbuttoned the neck of her dress. Her breasts were a harsh red and much bigger than they had been in the past.

"That looks painful," I commented, pointing at her boob.

"It was painful to grow 'em this big. They look bad, but they're really not," she assured me. We sat in silence for a moment longer and I almost fell asleep, until she spoke. "I'm sorry for earlier. I should have greeted you without Flynn or given you some kind of warning. I know you're still upset about the twins."

"It wasn't you," I assured her. "It wasn't even Flynn, honest. It was Éomer. He's insisted since the miscarriage that he's not ready to be a father. When I caught him staring at Flynn…I don't know. Maybe my imagination got away with me. But I do know someday, he'll want this and I don't think I'll be able to give it to him."

"He really does love you, you know," Kristen said, shifting Flynn to the other breast. "Kids or no kids." She blushed a little. "I heard some of the fight. Didn't sound pretty."

"It wasn't," I sighed, sinking back into the rocker. "I need to thank you, though. It's nice of you and Faramir to let us stay here for a few weeks."

"Oh, you're both staying now? I guess that doesn't really surprise me. But it's no big deal, as long as you two can occupy yourselves," she let out a breathy laugh.

It was well past midnight when Kristen and I left so she could get some sleep. The rest of the guests would be arriving tomorrow—or I guess, today— and she would need to greet them.

I was absolutely exhausted from my travels and the excitement of the day that I barely registered the fact that Éomer had not yet returned from the stables. I was hardly able to change out of my weathered riding clothes, but somehow I managed to get into a nightgown before falling on the sheets and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

I walked down to the stables the next morning. I woke earlier than expected, Éomer's absence keeping me from being able to sleep. I was intending to feed Winnie a good old breakfast carrot, but found someone waiting for me in the stables.

Éomer was asleep on a bushel of hay, his head against a wooden pillar. Yellow bits of straw were poking out of his golden hair, making him look much more disheveled than he actually was. I bent over him, gently removing the straw from his tresses. Eventually, he started to stir. "Rachel," he breathed as he woke. He looked around, finding his bearings. "Did I fall asleep in the barn?"

"I can only assume so. You never came to bed," I said, sitting down beside him.

"You are in your nightclothes," he said, surprised.

"No one's in the city yet and I'm wearing a robe," I defended.

"The first of the guests arrived yesterday evening. Have you not noticed the new horses?" he gestured to the stalls on my right. Indeed, eight new horses were now held inside them.

"Who showed up?"

"Imrahil of Dol Amroth and three of his children. Imrahil is Faramir's…uncle, I believe."

I felt my stomach clench. Holy shit on toast, this was not okay. "Love, are you alright?" he asked.

"Which children? He has four."

"I believe his two eldest and his daughter. Why? Did you meet them during the war?"

"No. No, I never met them," I said, standing out of the hay.

But he knew me too well to just dismiss that. "Rachel, what is going on?"

With a deep breath, I turned back to him. He was standing with me now, concern etched on his face. "Remember how you said you didn't want to know anything of what could have been?" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice from shaking. "It was right after I moved to Edoras and you said you would have rather not known Éowyn was supposed to have lived through the war and that you didn't want any more of that knowledge."

"Yes I do," he said, grabbing my hand in his own.

"Is that still true? I never told you because you were so adamant about it."

"Well, now I'm curious. What is so important about Imrahil?"

I shook my head. "Not Imrahil. His daughter, Lothiriel."

And there it was. Éomer was far from stupid and it wasn't that hard to piece together. "I married the Princess of Dol Amroth?" he muttered, slumping against a wooden post. "She is but a child. A kind child, but…that does not make sense." He turned back to me. "It must have been arranged. Was it arranged?"

"I don't know. There's only, like, one sentence written on the matter."

"And what is the sentence?"

"I don't have it memorized, Éomer." I understood his frustration. That was a pretty big pile of shit I just loaded onto his plate, but it didn't make me feel better about this conversation I never wanted to have. I turned, intent on walking away, but he stopped me.

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling me closer to him. "The fact that I am unnerved by the situation is absolutely wrong. But do you really think I don't know my heart well enough to be confident in my choice of marriage?" I didn't say anything as he placed a kiss on my cheek. "The princess will make a beautiful young bride. But for someone else. Just because an old man of your world fancies himself a spinner of tales does not mean he is a spinner of my life. Nor, yours for that matter. I made a choice and that choice was you. Never forget that."

The glow in his eyes told me he meant every word. Before I knew it, my lips were on his. He was tired and surprised, but he kissed me back, gently cupping my cheek. But I didn't want to be gentle. With that princess in the same city, I didn't feel assured.

Éomer had staked his claim the night we pledged troths. I couldn't take him here in the barn, but I could very well mark my territory. I grabbed his broad shoulders, pulling him with me as my back met a wooden post. Using the post as leverage, I snaked my arms around his neck and pulled myself up to his height, wrapping my legs around his waist. I felt his jaw clench with surprise, and he tried to pull away, but I stopped him, tangling my fingers in his hair, keeping his mouth were it needed to be.

He didn't protest. In fact, he brought himself deeper into the kiss and I felt my back dig into the post behind me. With one hand, he gripped my thigh and with the other, he slowly moved it down from my cheek to my breast, clutching it between the thin fabrics of my nightgown and my robe, massaging it like only he could, sending waves of pleasure and heat through my chest.

I broke the kiss, gasping for air and his mouth moved to my neck, placing rough kisses in the most sensitive places.

A wisp of dark hair disappeared behind the door to the stables, so fast it might have been my imagination. But then logic replaced my desire and I remembered we were not in Aldburg anymore. Ithilian was a city of Gondor and Gondor had rules about this kind of thing.

Éomer must have noticed me tense up, as his kisses eventually stopped. He pulled back, removing his hand from my breast and helping me back to the ground. I expected him to ask what that kiss was about, but he said nothing. He only took a moment to regain his breath, and I with him.

"We should leave that for our bedroom," I muttered. "I shouldn't have jumped you like that."

He caressed my face with the tips of his fingers. "Never apologize for that, love. That spark is our own personal flame." He leaned away from me and stretched his arms. "Perhaps staying in Ithilian will do us some good after all."

I couldn't help it. For the first time in a long time, I let out a genuine laugh. Éomer smiled as he laced his fingers in my own and pulled me quickly through the halls, so no one would see our tousled hair and my wrinkled nightclothes and wonder just what we might have been up to in the stables.

* * *

-Éomer-

In the halls of Faramir's House, I walked aimlessly, looking for a distraction. Not often did Rachel get to visit with Aragorn, and when he had arrived, I left them to some privacy. The walls of this city were barren, cold, and made of stone. Very much unlike the ones in Meduseld, made of wood, intricately carved with numerous designs and tapestries hanging from every nook and cranny. One I found particularly comforting these days hung not far from the door to the library. It depicted my ancestor, Frealaf Hildeson, who took the throne of Rohan, the first of the second line of Kings.

I had much in common with Frealaf. His mother had been sister to King Helm Hammerhead, and took the throne after the death of his uncles. I too, would be the first of my line. _And probably the last_ , the nagging voice in the back of my mind quipped.

By the Valar, I did not want to cope with this now. Until yesterday, fatherhood had terrified me more than ten thousand Uruk-hai. I did not envy Faramir in the slightest. But, here I stood in these cold halls, sick to my stomach at the fact Rachel would, in all likelihood, never conceive a child. I thought I had made my peace with it, but I had not. Clearly, she also was distressed.

I kicked a chair in frustration. Why did marriage seem to bring out the worst in us? We had lived in happily in courtship for fourteen months. I had been naive to think that marriage would solve any of our problems. Yet, when I proposed, I did not even know about her condition.

"Marshal Éomer," a voice greeted me.

Looking up, I met the face of Prince Erchirion, the second-eldest brother of Lothiriel. He and I had fought, along with his father and brothers, at the Battle of the Black Gate. I stood and held out my hand. "Prince Erchirion. Many moons it has been since I saw you last at my wife's sister's wedding."

"Indeed, my lord. And now we meet again to welcome their child to the world. Have you met the little prince?"

"I have. My wife and I were first to arrive in Ithilian. Great joy the babe has brought to my family."

He looked like he had more to say, but was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Éomer!"

I turned and found my sister-in-law walking towards me, though it was not the one I expected.

"Claire?" I said in surprise. Her face held a small smile as she limped toward me. When last I saw her, you would not know of the ailment simply by looking at her. Now, with her limp and the use of a cane, it was obvious. I pulled my favorite sister-in-law into an embrace. "I did not expect you since you were a month's travel away in the Shire, but here you stand before me."

"You think I would miss the name-day of my sister's first child? You don't know me very well, Éomer."

Behind me, Erchirion coughed. I gave Claire an annoyed stare and she tried not to laugh. "Lady Claire Elliott, may I present Erchirion, Son of Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth."

She looked a little surprised at the identity of the prince, but she held her hand out none the less. Erchirion took it in his own, placing a kiss upon it. "It brings me great honor to meet the sister of my new cousin."

Claire gave him an amused look as she took her hand back. "It's a pleasure, Prince Erchirion," she said politely before turning back to me. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Erchirion looked annoyed. "As you wish," I said, starting back down the hall.

"Might I see you at the celebrations tonight, Lady Claire?" Erchirion called.

"Well, the kid is my nephew, so yeah," she called back. As we turned a corner, she burst out into laughter. "Are all the princes of Dol Amroth that forward?"

"They seem to be a rather forward family, yes. I do not know them well, but we fought in the war together."

"Living amongst the Hobbits, I've forgotten how much the big folk love their romance."

"Have you not found yourself a Halfling that has caught your fancy, sister?" I jested.

"I doubt my feet are hairy enough for any of them," she chuckled.

I led us into a room I knew to be unoccupied. "I do not think Faramir will mind if you take up residency in this room. It is quite far from the rest of the festivities. I know how you like your peace."

"Thank you," she said, sinking into a chair and propping up her leg on the center table. I could not tell before how tired she looked.

"How long have you been on the road?"

"Merry and I left twenty-two days ago. We made excellent timing."

"Meriadoc Brandybuck?"

"Did I not mention your uncle's esquire was my traveling companion?" she said, opening her eyes. "After he heard of me coming, he wanted to be dropped off in Rohan to visit you, but then we met Eothain in Aldburg and he told us Kristen had the baby and you weren't in Rohan."

"We've decided to stay in the city longer than Eothain expects. I am not presently needed in the Mark and he has Aldburg well under control. I promised Rachel that we would stay in Ithilian for an extended period of time. Aldburg doesn't suit her quite as well as I had hoped."

"Frida mentioned that," Claire said, stretching.

"What did Frida say?" I was immensely curious, for Erkenbrand mentioned on the road that many had noticed Rachel's unhappiness but love had made me blind.

"Only that Rachel doesn't like Aldburg. Frida thinks she misses Thèoden."

"And what do you think?"

"I think I haven't seen her since the wedding and I can't judge without talking to her first. Where is she, by the way? You two are normally glued at the hip."

"She is with Aragorn. He arrived about an hour ago."

My sister-in-law nodded, rising from her chair and grabbing her cane. "I need to talk to him before the celebrations tonight. But you should go to the kitchens. Merry's down there and he's talked of little more than you and Rachel the entire trip."

"I will indeed greet my uncle's old esquire. Thank you for this, Claire. All of it."

She waved a hand at me as I left the room.


	22. Upstairs

_Chapter 4: Upstairs_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Rachel-

No breakfast brought on a massive hunger for lunch. And it was a good thing I had decided to go to the kitchens to get food myself.

Éomer sat at a table and bench with a person much smaller than himself. "Merry?" I asked, without any other introduction.

"My lady!" he called, jumping up from his seat. In one hand he held a buttery roll and in the other, he had almost toppled over a flagon of ale to reach me. Éomer chuckled as the Hobbit's arms reached around my waist.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came with Lady Claire."

"Claire is here?" I exclaimed. That was the best news I could have received. "Where is she?"

"She went to see Aragorn," Éomer said. "I will take you to her, love. You need not get excited. Then Master Merry can return to his interrupted meal."

"Oh, don't leave on my account, Marshal Éomer," Merry said, taking another bite of his bread.

"It is good to see you, my dear esquire," I said, giving his shoulder a squeeze as Éomer lead me out of the kitchens.

"What a surprise!" I said, grabbing his hand and lacing my fingers through it. "Did you know she was coming?"

"I did not. She found me not long after her arrival. I meant to find you, but she had insisted I speak to Merry first." We walked in silence up the stairs back into the main part of the palace.

"What did Claire need with Aragorn?" I asked.

"You are not the king's only friend, love. I'm sure she just wanted to catch up. Then, there's the matter of her leg. It doesn't seem to be in the best shape. She walks with a cane and limp now."

I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about her leg. I'm doing my best to stay in a good mood."

"What did you and Aragorn talk of?" he asked, changing the subject.

Damn, that's not what I wanted him to ask. "Arwen is pregnant."

He stopped walking and turned me to look at my face. "Are you alright?"

"Éomer, I'm fine," I assured him, even though I wasn't. I had done everything I could to hide my jealously from Aragorn, who was so excited at the prospect of being a father.

"No, Rachel. You are not."

I sighed, wanting to run my hand through my hair, but my circlet prevented it. "Éomer, I can't help but be a little upset, but I also can't drop to pieces whenever someone attains something that I also want."

"Perhaps I'll cheer you up," he muttered, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. It was amazing, how easy it was to be away from Aldburg and the duties that hindered us from being able to spend time together.

I melted into his arms, and I occurred to me I didn't have to savor it like I had grown accustomed to back at the fortress. "You know, Claire will be at the party later," I said, hoping my new idea could distract me from Aragorn's news. "And we never got to finish what we started this morning on account of Aragorn's poorly-timed arrival."

"Are you suggesting we skip meeting with your newly arrived sister?"

"In favor of our bed upstairs?" I said, innocently. "After you kissing me in this hallway, how could I not?"

The next thing I knew, his arms were around my legs and I'd been tossed over his shoulder. I didn't care that we were in Ithilian and this was inappropriate. And I laughed all the short distance that remained to our borrowed chambers.

* * *

I still hadn't eaten and after three rounds of love-making, I was absolutely famished. Reluctantly, as the time of the celebrations approached, I figured I had better get ready. Éomer, lucky as he was to not have to lace up a dress, stayed in the bed, his right hand resting behind his head, watching me dress.

"I shall never understand the complexity of Gondorian wear."

"You and me both."

"You should have a maid help you lace that up."

"Then you would have to leave. You could come help me."

"I have much practice in removing your clothes, not putting them on," he said, wagging his eyebrows.

The door to our chambers opened and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "You're both disgusting," Claire said, walking in. Then she noticed Éomer. "Holy shit!" she yelled, slamming the door and covering her eyes.

Éomer hastily pulled the sheet up over his naked body. "Bema's beard, don't you knock!" he practically shouted.

"It's the middle of the day!" she yelled. "Don't you two have better things to do?"

"You are no longer my favorite sister," he muttered under the sheet.

It took all I had not to burst out laughing now that I knew who it was that had opened the door. "Calm down both of you. Éomer, she saw nothing."

"Yeah, a rather large nothing," she said, giving me a wink.

He groaned and did not emerge from the sheets. "Hmm. You've embarrassed him," I said. "That's new."

"Claire, please leave," Éomer said.

"No, she needs to help me with this dress. I can't do it on my own."

"Get a maid to help you."

"Imagine if one of Emyn Arnen's maids had walked through the door," I said. I noticed his body tense. "You'd be way more embarrassed then you are now."

"Can you at least avert your eyes, sister?"

She gave me a grin that buried her laughter as she turned into a corner of the wall. Éomer popped out of the sheets and ran behind the dressing screen where his cloths were kept.

"Now, will you help me?" I asked. Claire came over and started doing up the laces. "Why Kristen insists we wear these infernal dresses, I'll never understand."

"I wonder how she wore them when she was pregnant. Did you see the laces on her dress at your wedding?"

"She will sacrifice anything for the highest fashion," I mumbled as Claire tightened the last of the laces. I turned to face her when she finished, pulling her into a hug. "How are you? I haven't heard from you in forever. I was worried you wouldn't make it to Ithilian in time."

"I've been good. My leg has gotten worse. I ran into Aragorn just now and he inspected it. His two year prediction is turning out to be quite accurate."

"I didn't mean to talk about your leg," I said apologetically.

"I know. But I also know that you worry. Please don't, Rachel. You have enough to worry about, least of all my leg."

I nodded. Éomer came out from behind the separator, dressed in a tunic adorned with the crest of Rohan and a cape I had purchased for him at one of the quarterly markets. "We will not speak of this again. I'll wait for you both in the hallway," he said, his face still red as a tomato.

Claire giggled as he left. "I really didn't think you'd be doing that," she said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. He could do with a little humiliation." I grabbed my gold circlet off the floor where Éomer had tossed it in our hasty undressing and popped it on my head. "But we best not keep him waiting."

Outside, Éomer had controlled his coloring, but he still didn't say much. He offered me his right arm and Claire his left and walked us toward the party.

"Are you without and escort, Lady Claire?" a voice called behind us. The three of us turned to find a handsome man I had never met before. He had the dark hair of a Gondorian, but his skin was deeply tanned.

"I believe I have an arm of the Marshal of Rohan, thank you, Prince Erchirion," she said.

I almost snorted. He was one of Lothiriel's brothers. Now that I knew his identity, he did look vaguely familiar.

"Only one arm, it seems," he countered.

Claire rolled her eyes. "You're very persistent, aren't you, prince?"

"Only as persistent as I must be, Lady Claire, for it seems your affections are not easily charmed."

Claire gave me a nervous glance and I winked at her. Why shouldn't she have a date to the party like the rest of us? She turned back towards the prince and sighed. "What the hell."

* * *

-Claire-

I took the arm of the Prince of Dol Amroth and he led me up to the party. It took place in Faramir's main hall and I was anxious to see it in party mode, since it normally looked kind of dull.

"Prince Éomer and Princess Rachel of Rohan," Dothrir yelled to the crowd.

I groaned in anticipation of the guard announcing my name. I could have probably avoided it, had I not been on the arm of Gondorian royalty.

"Is something wrong?" Erchirion asked.

"That's just a bit too much unwanted attention for me. There's a reason I live in Bree and avoid court-life. It better suits my sisters than me."

He looked surprised. "You do not strike me as one easily ignored, Lady Claire."

"Beside my sisters, the Bowmaiden and the Princess, it's not so surprising. But I understand that you need to be announced. While I avoid court-life, I'm not unfamiliar with its customs."

I expected him to proceed through the door, but instead, he led me in the opposite direction and into a servants' staircase. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I know Emyn Arnen's layout well, my lady. We can sneak into the party, unannounced through the servants' pathways."

"But, don't you have to—,"

"I highly doubt my name will have gone amiss on my new cousin's name-day. I am not quite that important."

I followed him down the staircase where servants below were hustling around with plates of food to carry up to the party. Erchirion maneuvered expertly around them and I followed, keeping the skirts of my dress off of the floor. It was the only dress of this fashion I owned and I doubt I could afford another custom made like this. I noticed how slowly he moved, as he seemed to be taking my limp into account.

We reached the other end of the quarters and he led me up the staircase into Faramir's hall. I was not disappointed. Gold lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the hall which was adorned with beautiful flowers. I had no clue what was to take place during a name-day celebration. I assumed it would be like most court parties, but there would be some kind of announcement in the middle of it all. I noticed Kristen sitting at the dais, my nephew a bundle in her arms. I had yet to meet the baby or say hello to Kristen. I had word sent to her that I arrived, and indeed, when we made eye contact, her smile widened and she waved at me. I waved back as she pointed at the bundle of blanket in her arms.

"I believe she wants you to meet your nephew," Erchirion said. "Perhaps I will secure a table and some drinks?"

"Sure," I said. He was being awfully nice to me. Not often was I treated like this by the noblemen of Gondor. While I appreciated the plumbing and solid structures of Gondor, I much preferred the simplicity of Bree or the Shire, where I could wear pants and no one would question it. I could go to a tavern and down five mugs of ale and no one would bat an eye. Here, I had to pretend. But for Kristen's sake, I spared her my complaints.

I walked up to the dais. There was something of a line forming of people from Gondor, all wanting to meet the future Prince of Ithilian. I stood at the back, intending to wait my turn, but Faramir was suddenly there, pulling me up onto the dais before the other noble people. "Faramir, I can wait my turn," I muttered.

"Nonsense, sister. You are family, not some tight-assed noble acquaintance."

"Tight-assed?" I asked. "That's a bit…American of you."

"Kristen's foul mouth has rubbed off on me, I'm afraid."

"You'll have to tame it, the both of you, with a baby in the house."

He laughed as we reached Kristen. She looked pretty much the same, albeit pudgier in the hips and face. Knowing her, she'd introduce the citizens of Ithilian to modern exercise any day now so she could shed it. "I'm so glad you made it!" she said. "Éomer said he sent out a messenger for you, but I assumed you'd be here for your birthday, regardless."

"No doubt it'll go unnoticed with this little guy around," I said, glancing a look at my nephew. He was snuggled into his blanket, his head a little wrinkly and pink ball with a tuft of brown hair. "What did you name him?"

"Flynn," Faramir said, proudly.

"Like Flynn Rider?" I joked. But seeing Faramir's face, Flynn Rider was no laughing matter.

"Exactly like Flynn Rider," he said, excitedly. "We really should write down these legends you've told me, Kristen. They would certainly be loved by the children of the city."

"Rachel's already doing that," Kristen said, wiping a bit of drool from Flynn's mouth.

Faramir smiled, looking out at the party. "I didn't hear Dothrir announce you, Claire," he said.

"Prince Erchirion helped me sneak through the servants' quarters. I didn't really want to be announced."

"Is that why my cousin stares up at this dais so intently?" he asked. Indeed, Erchirion was sitting at an empty table, two glasses of wine in front of him, watching me.

"I can't decide if his actions are flattering or disturbing," I mused.

"Erchirion is a good man," Faramir said. "A little overshadowed by his brothers, perhaps, but a valiant fighter during the war and the best sailor I've ever met. I take it he escorted you here tonight?"

"Yeah, and I'm worried that means something way different to me than it does to him."

"Why is that?" Kristen asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Have you forgotten my time is a bit more limited than yours?"

Kristen looked hurt. "Actually, I try not to think about it, Claire. It's a pretty messed up situation. But is that an excuse for you to keep cutting yourself off?"

I gave her an annoyed look. Didn't she realize I was trying to make this as painless as possible for everyone? I didn't really care about my own feelings at this point. "You have many guests that want to meet Flynn. I won't keep you," I said, running off the dais before they could stop me.

Erchirion stood as I approached him. "You look rather upset, my lady. Is something wrong?"

I sat down at the table and took a hearty gulp of the wine. He followed my example, though he merely sipped at the drink. "Did Kristen put you up to this?" I asked. "Or was it Faramir?"

"Excuse me?"

"You come out of nowhere. I've never met you before. Which one put you up to escorting me?"

"My lady, no one 'put me up to this'," he said, shifting in his seat. "Why would you think that?"

"Because, like I said, you came out of nowhere. Quite conveniently, too. I don't mind being a loner, Prince Erchirion. You don't have to sacrifice a night of celebration to spend it with me. Lately, I don't find myself in the mood for celebrations."

"Is this to do with your limp?" he said, a grin on his face. "Because I am not much of a dancer, my lady. Not taking part in that portion of the evening will not be a misfortune."

"This has everything to do with my limp, but not for the reasons you seem to think." I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "You should not have escorted me."

"If you are baffled as to why I asked to escort you, allow me to explain," he said, taking another sip of wine. "I remember you from the war."

"I avoided as much of the war as possible. I didn't meet many soldiers. Least of all swan-knights."

"We were never introduced, nor did we even speak. I was there when you saved Faramir's life, you see. You were rather occupied by Sir Beregond and Faramir at the time. You would not have noticed me."

"You're one of the guards who stood there as Denathor attempted to take the life of his only living son and did nothing?" I scoffed. I had thought of that day many times since its occurrence. My opinions on the stupid guards in the room had not improved.

"I do not think you understand the position a soldier must stand on during times of war," he said, leaning into the table. His grey eyes looked pained as he recounted his time in that dark room full of fire. "My uncle, Lord Denathor, was not always as you knew him to be. He was once a kind soul whom my brothers and I would visit in the winters to train with his sons. When my aunt, Finduilas, passed, he began to break away from attachments other than Boromir, who was, by far, so different from my aunt. Faramir was too like her for uncle to find solace in his younger son.

"I always knew, however, that Denathor loved Faramir deeply, though he did not show it much after Finduilas's passing. When Faramir was brought to the Hall of Kings, arrows protruding from his body, I seemed to think all hope was lost. I understand that your acquaintances were few during the war and you did not suffer much loss, am I correct, my lady?"

Reluctantly, I nodded.

"I knew the Halfling Peregrin insisted that Faramir was alive, but I took his insistence as denial. For all I could see was my dearest cousin dead. I had no love for my uncle at this point, I can assure you, my lady. What I saw was a chance to rid Gondor of him and send my cousin's body away from the hell that is war.

"But then you came through the door, anger in your eyes at the injustice. I almost stopped you, you see, but Beregond held me back. And you saved the life of my dear cousin, while ridding the land of the spoiled mind of Denathor. You, with your hair shining in the light of the fire, were a beacon of hope in a war that seemed lost from its very beginning."

I almost choked on wine. He sat patiently while I coughed it out of my lugs. "Éomer was right about you Amrothians," I muttered over the pain of the choking. "You are quite forward."

He chuckled. "If the Prince of the Mark is your only source of my ways, I think you'll find yourself very lost, dear lady."

I took another minute to regain my breath. He seemed to be holding back laughter. "A girl who can't breathe is not a laughing matter," I snapped.

"Perhaps some fresh air, then. I doubt Faramir will be able to present his son anytime soon, what with that line of nobles waiting to meet little Flynn."

He stood and held up his hand, which I accepted. He placed it into the crook of his elbow and led me to one of the palace balconies. The sun was starting to set, casting a glow even warmer than the lanterns inside the palace. I propped my elbows on the ledge, leaning into the night sky as Erchirion leaned his hip on the edge of the stonework. "My sister wishes to stay in Emyn Arnen for the time being. My father must return to Dol Amroth and will not allow her to stay without a companion." He gave me a curious glance. "Would it be wise to stay with my sister in this city, my lady? Or perhaps it would be a waste of my time."

I rolled my eyes. "You went from being forward and surprising, to tacky and aloof, prince."

He smiled, turning closer to me. "I was beginning to think my forwardness was putting you off."

"On the contrary, I find it refreshing in Gondorian nobility."

"Well, then. Will you be in Ithilian much longer, Lady Claire?"

"I've actually been recently informed that my Rohir sister and brother-in-law are planning to stay for a while. If my traveling companion finds it amenable, yes, I think I will stay."

"Then I shall stay with my sister," he concluded.

Suddenly, I realized something. This wasn't right. "Erchirion, maybe you should go back to Dol Amroth. You needn't stay here for me."

"But, I thought—,"

"I know you've noticed my limp," I said. And I explained to him my unfortunate circumstance and the attack in Tuckborough. He was silent throughout my entire explanation. "And so, a year from September, I will sail to the Undying Lands. If I don't, I will die from this poison, and there's no cure." Still, he said nothing. I couldn't take the silence. "That's why this…whatever you are trying to turn this into…cannot happen. You are very charming, prince, and I have enjoyed your company tonight. Really, the people of Bree have nothing on your compliments. But it is not fair to you if I lead you on."

"There is no cure?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Rachel was in denial for some time. She had written many letters to Aragorn, demanding that he find a cure. But I had to make her see sense. If Tom Bombadil, the forest-dweller of Middle-earth, could not find a cure, then no one would. I have known this for almost a year, Erchirion. I have long made peace with it. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to my travels West."

He seemed to not know what to do with his arms. He kept folding them across his chest, then dropping them to his sides. "Are you going to say anything?" I asked.

He settled with his arms around his chest. "This all seems rather…unfair."

"I never said it was fair. Ever since my sisters and I came to Middle-earth, I've been the odd one out. Rachel has Éomer and Kristen has Faramir. My whole life, all I wanted to do was come to this place. But when I got here, it wasn't what I expected. And when I was told I would have to leave, I realized I didn't want to. How pathetic is that?"

"I do not find it pathetic, my lady. I find it tragic."

"You know, you can call me Claire. I don't mind. I only have the title because of my sisters. I never earned it."

He smiled. "You try to ward off my advances, yet you keep inviting me back in."

I leaned further into the railing. "As much as I hate to admit it, I've found myself quite lonely. When I visit the Shire, I am amongst dear friends, but they are not my people. Now, when I find myself with my sisters, they are attending to their husbands. I should not have accepted you as an escort, but the selfish part of me wanted a companion who would not ignore me the whole night."

"How you could be ignored is beyond me, Claire." His grey eyes stared into my own. This wasn't fair. He was a nice guy and I couldn't bring him into my shortened life. But after a year and a half of watching Rachel and Kristen get everything they ever wanted, I found myself melting into those grey eyes, longing for the affection I had seen Faramir look upon Kristen. Longing for the intimacy Rachel had shared with Éomer mere hours ago. I found myself slowly leaning towards the prince and his head lowered closer to mine. "I was raised a gentleman of the south," he said, almost a whisper. "Under normal circumstances, you would not find me in this position, I assure you."

"This isn't exactly a normal circumstance," I said.

"If you would allow it, I would very much like to kiss you, Claire. For I do not know if I will ever get another opportunity."

Ever so slowly, our heads had been inching towards one another. Without words, I placed my lips upon his, giving into that intimacy I had not felt in so long. I willed my arms to stay on the stone, but it seems the prince wasn't as strong as I. His tongue entered my mouth and a moan escaped his throat. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, bringing me, if possible, deeper into the kiss. How often did he do this? He was quite good at it. And I responded to his gentle touches, placing my hands on his hips, bringing our bodies together.

He broke the kiss then, catching his breath. "I do not want you to get the wrong impression of me, Claire," he said.

"And what impression is that?"

"That I go about Gondor, kissing women I have only just met. I told you, I was raised a gentleman."

"In this moment, I would not care if you were raised an Orc, Erchirion. But you have to understand that pursuing this would not end in happiness."

"At least it has started in happiness," he said, leaning his forehead against my own. "I shall only stay in Ithilian if you ask it of me."

"You are asking me to do a very selfish thing," I hesitated.

"When was the last time you allowed yourself to be selfish?"

I stared into his sea-grey eyes and realized he was right. Never had I done anything for myself. I worried more about how to make others content with my leaving more than I was. I sat in quiet envy as I watched both of my sisters get married. I secluded myself in the Shire and Bree because I believed it would be easier. But this time, I wanted something that would make me happy.

"Would you stay in Ithilian?" I asked.

His eyes lit back up as he placed another quick kiss on my lips. "Absolutely, my lady."

* * *

 _Happy Easter everyone!_

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	23. Guard

_Chapter 5: Guard_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Rachel-

Yes, I spied on Claire and the prince. Éomer was rather annoyed that I had decided to watch them the entire night. When they got up from their table and went to one of the balconies, I stealthily followed, watching from a safe distance.

"Shouldn't they have a chaperone or something? Kristen and Faramir always had a chaperone."

"We didn't have a chaperone," he said. "Well, unless you count Hilda."

I noticed the prince's posture start so sag and figured she was telling him of her leg. "She's gone and done it now. Do you think he'll run?"

"I would hope not. They seem to be a good match," Éomer, muttered. I could tell he was getting bored.

But after a minute, the prince started to smile. I could not see Claire's face, since her back was to the doors I was looking through. Then, their bodies started leaning towards each other. "Holy shit, Éomer. He's gonna kiss her," I said, tugging on his sleeve.

"I think she'll be the one to kiss him," he said.

Sure enough, he was right as Claire closed the space between the two of them. "Yes!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around his bicep. "Finally!"

"They have only kissed, Rachel. And I don't understand why you are happy about this."

"Because I hate the way she looks at us now. Like our happiness brings her no joy. I want her to have what we have."

"And you think she can find that? She has but twelve months before she sails to Aman. Do you think Prince Erchirion will view that as simply as you do?"

"I just want her to have a bit of peace with Middle-earth before she leaves, Éomer. Is it so wrong to want to see my sister happy?"

He let out a sigh and placed a kiss on my cheek. "Not at all, love. But while this may bring her happiness, the prince may suffer after she departs."

"As long as she's told him what he's getting into, I see no fault in what she's done," I defended.

He snaked his arm out of my grip and grabbed my hand. "Come, dance with me. Aragorn's arrived now, so they'll be presenting Flynn soon. We may not have another chance."

I smiled as he led me away from prying at my sister, who, by certain Gondorian accounts, was practically having sex with the Prince of Dol Amroth on the balcony.

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful. Faramir presented Flynn to Aragorn, who then presented him to the people. I was happy to see Aragorn so cheerful at welcoming a new soul into the world. The last time he had done this was at the birth of Prince Elphir's son, Alphros, and apparently the babe had spit up on him. But bundled up nice and tight, Flynn didn't so much as coo.

Éomer and I left rather early. This was due mostly to his boredom, but also, he didn't want me to continue spying on Claire and Erchirion. "You are developing a bad habit, woman," he teased me throughout the night as I watched them simply sit at a table, sipping wine and talking.

Later, in our chambers, I let my dress fall from my shoulders and only wore a shift. Turning around, I brought my lips to his own and my arms up to his neck and started undoing the clasps of his cape. This was what I had wanted. A few weeks free of distractions. Even though Faramir and Kristen were also here, they had the baby to take care of. Kristen even said we would need to occupy ourselves. Not that we needed any help at that.

Unfortunately, my stomach felt the need to let out a large growl as soon as I had the clasps undone. Éomer pulled back, a teasing look in his eye. "Didn't you eat anything at the party?"

"Not a whole lot," I admitted.

"You didn't get breakfast or lunch, either," he let go of me and grabbed his cape off the floor, placing it on the back of the vanity chair. "You're in your shift. The party will be nearly over now. I'll run down and get some food."

"You don't have to do that. I'm fine," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the bed.

He stopped me with a short kiss. "I'll only be a moment. I'll not have you starve."

He left the room and I was alone. I didn't mind, though. I reached down and grabbed my gown off the floor, folding it neatly in its trunk. I took off my slippers and placed them inside as well. Little mundane tasks like that helped me keep a clear head.

I walked over to the window, laying my head against the pain, thinking about why I had been so upset before we got here. It all seemed trivial now that we were here without our duties. But I'll not deny, it got me thinking. If I could barely handle living in Aldburg as a lady, how would I handle Meduseld as a queen in the future?

What Éowyn had once said was starting to become all too true for me. " _A cage. To sit behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond call or desire_." That was what almost happened to her. Stuck in Meduseld, tending to the duties of the queen since the position was absent. I didn't want to be queen. I had told Thèoden as much and I was pretty sure he assumed that was why I had ran five months ago. I'm also pretty sure that's why he insisted Éomer and I move to Aldburg; so I could learn how to run a proper Rohirric household and learn to deal with a husband who worked long hours.

I knew Éomer wasn't keen on taking the throne either. For a while now, I've wanted to ask him to run with me, but I knew I couldn't so that. I loved Rohan too much to let her fall into the wrong hands if we abandoned her. What kind of person would I be if I abandoned the very people who gave me a home when I had none?

But I still couldn't shake the thought. What if we could actually do it? What if we could run?

I was distracted by a figure moving on the ground below me. Looking down, I saw the shape of a girl walking in the garden. I was too far away to see her face, but the silver circlet on her head and her light blue dress gave away her identity. It was Princess Lothiriel. I had seen her in those clothes at the party.

As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn't bring myself to do it. After all, I stole her life, not the other way around. She's the one who has every right to hate me. I could very well be in her position right now, had I landed somewhere else in Middle-earth instead of the Riddermark.

I watched as the large figure of a man came towards her. I was too far away to hear the words exchanged, but when he pulled the hood of his cloak down, his golden hair shown in the moonlight.

Éomer. It had to be. The man was too young to be Erkenbrand and Rimbon never talked. It took everything I had to engage him in conversation. Most of the time he was brooding and silent. It's why I liked him so much. He didn't mind the occasional awkward silence.

I saw Lothiriel's hand reach over to touch Éomer's face. Slowly but surely, they moved closer and closer until their lips met.

That was when I lost it.

I barely had the good sense to grab a robe, let alone throw on anther dress. I ran barefoot at full speed down the nearest palace steps and into the gardens. That little bitch had no clue whose husband she had just kissed.

But when I got to the gardens, the scene had progressed. Prince Erchirion was there now, gripping his hand, a look somewhere between pain and fury etched across his face. Éomer's back was to me, his hands at his face.

"What in Ulmo's name is wrong with you?" Lothiriel shouted at her brother.

He continued to grip his hand. I figured his fist was more damaged than my husband's face. Well, at least until I got my hands on him.

"How dare he meet you here with those intentions," Erchirion growled through his teeth. "You're lucky I found you instead of Elphir, Lothiriel. He would have slit that Rider's throat."

"Oh, you're one to talk brother, after kissing our cousin's sister on the balcony earlier! Tell me, when did you two enter proper courtship?"

"What's going on here?" A voice said behind me.

It was Éomer, carrying a basket and a bottle of wine. Shit, he had left his cloak in our room. My head darted back to who I thought had been Éomer as the figure turned around, revealing Rimbon's face.

It took all I had not to slam my head into the wall. I could be so thick sometimes.

"Lord Éomer, Lady Rachel," Erchirion said, bowing his head. "I'm sorry, but this is a family matter. It doesn't concern you."

"One of my Rider's is bleeding. You cannot say this does not concern me," Éomer said. With the situation as tense as it was, I was thankful I didn't have to explain why I was down here.

"It is my fault, milord," Rimbon said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, it's my fault," Lothiriel said. "Even though it really shouldn't be considered a fault. I'm the one who kissed Rimbon. My brother here decided to intervene on behalf of my good virtue. So I suppose, in actuality, it is Erchirion's fault."

"No fault was made on my part!" he defended.

"Okay," a sixth voice said, entering the garden. It was Claire, limping over on her cane. "It sounds to me like everyone played a part in this."

"I agree with Claire," I said, intent on ending this situation as soon as possible. "Lothiriel shouldn't have kissed Rimbon. Erchirion shouldn't have hit him. Rimbon…actually, Rimbon, I don't think you did anything wrong."

"Forgive me, my lady, but you cannot know the fault he did my sister," Erchirion said. "You are from Rohan, not Gondor. Your customs are different."

"Actually," Claire cut in. "We're from South Carolina."

"And in South Carolina, what Rimbon and Lothiriel did was not bad by a long shot. In fact, most people would think it rather nice." Behind me, Éomer coughed and I knew I may have gone too far with that one. I got back to the topic at hand. "Erchirion, your sister does have a point, though. You and my sister were making out on the balcony. And, unless she's decided to start keeping secrets from me, you two haven't entered any kind of courtship. What justifies that over what your sister and Rimbon have done? And if you answer 'because she's a girl', I may punch you in the throat."

"We don't like double standards," Claire said.

"This is just like women," Erchirion said. "To stick together when the situation is utterly wrong."

"Careful, prince," Claire warned. "Rachel may actually punch you in the throat."

I was far from angry. Frankly, Erchirion's reaction was pretty predictable of an older brother and I couldn't blame him. It was his justification that was wrong.

"Rachel," Éomer said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "This does not concern us. We should go back to our room."

Reluctantly, I steadied my posture, coming out of attack mode. "You're right," I said. "Rimbon, you should come with us."

Éomer looked surprised, but did not protest as Rimbon crossed over to us, the blood from Erchirion's punch drying on his face. Yuck, someone needed to take care of that. I noticed how slowly the young Rider was moving and I came to the conclusion he'd been drinking. There was his fault! I knew he couldn't be completely innocent. I shot Claire an apologetic look before going back into the palace.

"You need someone to clean your face. You're too drunk to do it yourself," I said, leading the two men down to the hovel where Rimbon and Erkenbrand were staying.

"I am not drunk, milady," Rimbon said, his words starting to slur now that we were away from the very protective Prince Erchirion.

I snorted. "You won't fool me, kid. I know a drunk man when I see one. You're talking to the girl who once out-drank an Elf."

"Only because the Elf lost interest," Erkenbrand called from the door of the hovel. "There you are boy! I was wondering if you'd wandered into the village for company."

"Oh great, you've both been drinking," I said, pushing Rimbon through the door.

"And Éomer's brought some more!" he said, noticing the bottle of wine and clapping Éomer on the back.

"This isn't for you, you plastered lout."

Erkenbrand's head shifted stupidly between the two of us and his eyes widened with drunken realization before he turned his head into the corner of the wall. "Forgive me, my lady. I did not realize you were undressed."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a flagon of water and wetting a cloth. "You can't see anything, you oaf. Éomer, will you pour him some water?"

He put the wine and basket down on a table and grabbed a cup. "You are both sparring tomorrow. I don't care how much your heads hurt in the morning," he growled.

Rimbon had slumped into a chair and Erkenbrand finally realized he had been bleeding. "What kind of wench did you find in the village, mate?"

"I wasn't in the village," he muttered as I leaned his head back and started cleaning the blood.

"We don't need to talk about it," I said, rinsing the cloth and getting the other side of his face.

"Why not?" Éomer said, handing Erkenbrand the water. "I would very much like to know what in Bema's name was going through your drunken head, Rimbon. There are plenty of women in this city to find that pleasure in. You had to pick a Gondorian Princess?"

Erkenbrand looked confused, but even drunk, he knew to keep his mouth shut when Éomer used that tone.

"Why are you so mad?" I asked, pouring Rimbon a glass of water from the flagon. "He did nothing wrong. You heard the princess. She kissed him."

"Did she really? Or was that simply her protecting you from her brother?"

Rimbon took the cup from my hand, but he didn't drink. "I ran into the princess in the stables during the celebration. She had walked into the party and was announced, but snuck back out through the servants' quarters. We talked for a bit. Erkenbrand and I already had a bit to drink in the tavern. The village celebrated the new prince as well. She asked me to meet her in the garden after the celebrations had ended. I didn't know of her intentions. And I can assure you that I played no part in the princess's advancements."

I let out a short laugh, sitting in the chair next to his and grabbing a roll of bread from the basket Éomer had brought. "You didn't know the pretty girl's intentions when she invited you for a romantic moonlit stroll in the supposedly private gardens?"

"As you have pointed out, milady, I have been drinking."

"And you're sure you didn't encourage said pretty girl at all? She doesn't seem all that manipulative."

"Milady, I cannot stress how disinterested I am in the Princess of Dol Amroth."

"I've heard enough," Éomer said. "Let us hope the prince does not speak of this to his father. Imrahil is a strict man when it comes to his daughter. Their opinions on Erolingas are already not that pleasant. I would hate for you to have tainted it further." He grabbed the bottle of wine and I grabbed the basket, stuffing the last of the roll into my mouth. "If you two are not sparring before breakfast, I'll tell Faramir to give his stable hands the day off."

"What did I do?" Erkenbrand said.

"You caught me in a foul mood," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the hovel.

"That was a little bit much, don't you think?" I asked as we walked back to the palace.

He let out a sigh and bit into the wine cork and pulled it out with his teeth. "You are right. I suppose I shouldn't take my frustration out on them, but better them than you."

"Why are you frustrated?"

He didn't answer. Instead he took a long gulp of wine straight from the bottle. "Why were you in the gardens?" he asked.

My stomach flipped. Why did he have to ask that? "I was looking for you," I said, grabbing for the bottle. It wasn't a complete lie.

"Nice try," he said, holding the bottle far enough away that I couldn't reach. "The truth?"

We had reached our room and he opened the door. I walked in, removing my robe. The shift underneath was so thin, it was practically see-through. Basically, it was Middle-earth lingerie and I did my best to distract him. "I could answer, or we could get back to that evening we had planned," I whispered, rubbing my hand over his chest.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Why are you avoiding the question? Is it so hard to answer?"

Dammit. I dropped my hand and successfully managed to grab the bottle. I took a long chug and sat down on the bed. It was a little smoky for my tastes. I preferred a fruiter wine. I swallowed and handed him back the bottle. "I saw the whole thing from the window. From a distance, I suppose Rimbon looked a bit like you."

He was silent for a moment, but suddenly, he let out a large guffaw of laughter. My jaw dropped as I took in this rare scene of my husband laughing like a hyena. "What's so funny?"

He did not answer, for his laughter had taken hold of him. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the wine back and taking another long gulp. "I cannot believe it," he managed to get out eventually, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Cannot believe what?"

"That you, my wife, are jealous."

I almost dropped the bottle in shock. "I-I'm not jealous!" I said. "That's not what's going on here."

"Oh, my love," he said, pulling me up from the bed and into his arms, his smile encompassing his whole face. "All this time, I thought I was the jealous one."

"That's because you are," I said, pushing at his chest while trying not to spill the wine. "I can't tell you how many of those young servants at Meduseld and Aldburg fancy you, not to mention quite a few women in both villages. It doesn't faze me. Yet, a silly Ranger from the North gets a little crush, and you try to track him down and give him the old one-two, when I've already taken care of it—,"

"I shall not deny the truth in your words. But that doesn't make this any less amusing. Is this how you felt when I punched Holhelm for his comments on your bosom back in the Third Eored?"

"No, that felt annoying and embarrassing," I said, irritated. "Can we please just drop this?" But his laughter only continued and I managed to get out of his grip. I set the bottle down and grabbed the pitcher of water sitting beside a basin on the vanity. Without considering the consequences, I poured the whole pitcher on his head, drenching his hair and shoulders.

Well, I got the laughter to stop. "Woman, you will pay for that," he said, shaking his head like a dog.

"Oh will I?" I said in a teasing voice. The next thing I knew, his arm was around my waist, pulling me onto the bed. He was so quick and he caught me by surprise. Soon, he had my arms pinned to the mattress, his legs straddling me on top of my waist. His face was so close to my own, his wet hair dripping onto my skin. His warm breath kept the drops from raising goosebumps where they fell.

Why couldn't life be this easy in Aldburg? I had only been away from the fortress for a few days, and already I felt more like myself because here, I didn't have to pretend to be someone I wasn't and the same went for him. In this room, away from the city that we led, we didn't have to be Lord and Lady of Aldburg, Thèoden's heirs to the throne of Rohan. We weren't even Third Marshal and Bowmaiden. Just Éomer and Rachel.

I pulled my neck up, launching us into a deep kiss. The pressure of his kiss sent my head deep into the mattress. And he released my hands so I could remove his clothes and sink back into that bliss only we could share.

* * *

-Éomer-

I traced the beads of sweat that were resting in the valley of her breasts. She lay beside me, no sheet covering her naked body, letting me simply admire her. The way her shoulder-length chestnut hair fell over her pillow in little waves. How breath entered and exited her body through the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes were closed, giving her face a serene look that couldn't be found when she was asleep. I let my fingers drift further south down her body, drawing simple designs in the perspiration on her skin. And when I reached the sensitive skin just above her navel, she moved, reflexively jerking her body inward, a small laugh escaping her lips. Her hand came up and gently pushed my shoulder as she started to protest, but I silenced her with a simple kiss.

It was amazing to watch her rest after we made love, for, despite the sheen of sweat and tangled hair, I doubted there were times when she looked more beautiful or more relaxed. Perhaps it was because in these moments I was absolutely sure she was really mine and I her's. When the kiss ended, instead of returning to the pillow, she gently pushed my back flat on the bed and settled comfortably with her head on my right breast, her arm placed over my torso.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, but I felt the arm over my stomach tense slightly.

"Tell me," I begged.

Her face turned toward me, looking me in the eyes. "I don't know how you'll react."

I let out a breathy chuckle, reaching over and pulling the small strands of hair from her face. "I didn't realize you were that deep in contemplation. Now I'm curious."

She propped herself up on her forearms and suddenly, her face was serious. "What if we ran away?"

My stomach clenched in nervousness as I realized she actually meant it. "What are you talking about?"

"What if we never went back to Aldburg? We talk all the time about how there's so much of Middle-earth we haven't seen. We could just leave Ithilian and go wherever we wanted."

I ran a hand over my face and through my hair. "Rachel—,"

"I didn't expect you to go through with it," she said, laying her head back down. "But you asked what I was thinking."

I had upset her, which was the last thing I wanted during this rare time of bliss. Slowly, I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a sitting position, moving myself with her. I grabbed the sheet and wrapped it over her shoulders, then I cupped her face between my hands. "If life were that simple, we would have done that a year ago. But I have a responsibility that I cannot ignore."

"I know," she muttered, tucking a lock of her damp hair behind her ear. "And I don't want you to ignore it."

"Then why even have the thought?"

She tucked the sheet further around her body, perhaps protecting herself from whatever reaction I may have and I mentally promised to keep my temper in check. This was simply a conversation between husband and wife.

"It's just…living as Lady of Aldburg…you said it would be practice. If being queen is anything like that…I can't do it, Éomer. But more than that, I don't want to do it."

Forcing my mind to keep its calm, I asked gently, "Why have you never told me this?"

"I don't know," she said, struggling to find the words. "I suppose I thought I would lose you. Now I'm realizing that I gave up everything just to marry you. And it's not—,"

"Fair?" I said, harsher than I meant to. She winced at the word, but nodded nonetheless. I let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose, a headache forming at the struggle of these words we were exchanging. "Rachel, none of this is fair. If it were fair, Éowyn would still be alive. You would be able to see your family that I know you miss dearly. Uncle's health would not be swaying left and right. And Theodred would be the one inheriting the throne, not I."

I could tell from her expression that she understood what I had said. "It was a fool's hope," she muttered. "That we would ever have a chance at a normal life."

I pulled her into my arms, beyond frustrated at the situation. Oh, how I wanted to do what she asked. But I had almost chosen her over Rohan once before. Had I done that, I would have resented her for it forever. And I didn't want my marriage full of resentment.

But resentment did go both ways. By forcing her into this position she did not want, could I be sending her down that very path to feel that way about me? It was entirely possible. She gave up so much for me. She moved from Meduseld, a place she had called home, to Aldburg's fortress, where she apparently walked the halls like a ghost. She left the First Eored, giving up all chance of the warrior life I knew she still craved. Most of all, she had given up her freedom. While I was free to do as I pleased, she was under the scrutiny of the entire kingdom, who wondered how this stranger would take to the throne she would inevitably inherit. I could only find one solution to this conundrum, though neither of us would like it.

"I'm sorry," I said, rocking her gently as she buried her head in the crook of my neck. "This isn't how I want things to go. I wish I had the power to make you eternally happy. But there is only one thing I can give you in return for the sacrifices you have made for me."

"What?" she asked, an air of caution in her voice.

I pulled her back, staring into her eyes, making sure she understood every word. "If ever it is too much—the responsibility, the isolation—I don't want you to resent me. If you find that you can no longer be happy, you need not stay. I can't run, but you can. You need not lose every inch of freedom in your life just to be with me. I love you so much and I cannot take your life from you. And I will not force you into a position you so desperately do not want, nor will I force you to keep it if you change your mind in the future."

It was hard for me to say that and I practically had to choke it out. For a long time, she didn't say anything. If only she would fall back into my arms and whisper that she would never leave me. But she did no such thing. She only reached for my hand, grasping it in both of her own. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for no longer making me feel like a prisoner."

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	24. Apologies

_Chapter 6: Apologies_

 _Third Age, 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Eomer-

That night, our usual roles were switched as she slept peacefully and I tossed and turned. What I had done was right, I was positive of that. Neither of us would be happy if one was even slightly resentful. I hoped she would never leave, but in giving her the offer, it made the future less certain.

As the sun started to rise, I remembered what I had said to Erkenbrand and Rimbon. If they had any sense at all, they would be sparring by now. I sighed and rose from the warm bed carefully, so as not to wake my sleeping wife. Hopefully, I could be back before she woke up.

I threw on a simple pair of breeches and a thin shirt. The August days in Ithilian were rather hot and I was not planning to spar with my Riders, so I needn't dawn my armor. Quietly, I closed the door to our chambers and walked towards the barracks of Emyn Arnen. On the first floor of the palace, however, two voices stopped me. Who else in these royal halls would be awake at such an hour?

"I would appreciate it, prince, if you would stop following me around the palace." It was Claire and who I could only assume was Prince Erchirion.

"I only wish to know why you would push me away after asking me to stay in the city last night," he begged. Yes, that was indeed the Dol Amroth prince.

"Last night was a mistake," Claire muttered. "I told you, this can't work. So can you just make this a bit easier on both of us and leave me alone?"

"So you admit that turning me away is hard for you?" the prince teased.

Claire did not see his humor. "Actually, after what you did to your sister last night, it's really not that hard."

"My sister is a silly creature who is easily confused—,"

"Your sister is an adult who is completely capable of making her own decisions and the fact that you can't seem to see the hypocrisy of what you did is insulting."

"Insulting?"

"I'm only four years older than your sister. That's not that big of a difference, considering the amount of growing-up she had to do during the war. Don't you realize I did the same thing? Perhaps my sibling should have punched you in the nose for kissing me on the balcony. At least Lothiriel and Rimbon were in privacy. So could you please just leave me alone?"

I decided to rescue my sister-in-law from this uncomfortable encounter. I stomped my boots loudly on the floor, making my presence known as I rounded the corner. When I could see them, I noticed Erchirion was backing away from Claire. Her grip on the handle of her cane was so tight, her knuckles were white. "Good morning," I jaunted, doing my best to act like I had not been hiding behind the curve of the wall.

I seemed to have fooled the prince, but I could not tell if my sister-in-law fell for my ruse. "Éomer," she said, relief sounding in her voice. She turned back to Erchirion, a lighter tone to her speech now that she was not trapped by his pleas. "If you'll excuse me, Prince Erchirion, I have plans with my brother-in-law."

"And what might those plans be at such an early hour?" Erchirion asked.

Claire pleaded with her eyes for me to play along. "We are headed to the barracks where my guard Rimbon is sparring in retribution for what happened to your sister," I said. "Though I am unsure why Claire's plans would concern you."

"Good point," Claire said, managing to raise the hem of her skirt and clutch her cane. "Lead the way, Éomer."

I nodded to the prince who gave me a bitter tilt of his head. I walked slowly so Claire could keep up and until we were outside of the palace, she didn't speak again.

"Thank gods you showed up when you did," she said. "I thought I might have to beat him with my cane, he's so stubborn."

"Perhaps you should not have kissed him as you did last night, sister."

"I didn't ask your opinion," she snapped.

"I will voice it anyway," I retorted, angry that she was showing such force against me. "I know I am a hard soul, Claire, but you are my family, and there is little more in the world I care for more than family. What you are getting yourself into with the Dol Amroth prince is unwise."

"Why?" she said, her cane clopping on the cobblestones. "Because I can't handle him myself? Or because he's an asshole? Don't worry, I've worked that last one out myself."

I let out a sigh, worried that she would not take what I had to say to heart. "Claire, it is for neither of those reasons. Last night, Rachel mentioned something about how you look at the two of us; how it seems our happiness brings you no joy. I remember the first conversation we ever shared."

"After Rachel was taken to the Houses of Healing," she muttered. "Kristen kissed Faramir and I was…"

"You were understandably disappointed," I said. "But that is not the part of the conversation I refer to, but rather, when you made it clear to me, for the first time, that I loved Rachel. You are perceptive, Claire. Much more than I could ever hope to be. And you are wise in the ways of the heart. But I worry, when it comes to your own, you are rather clueless."

"Are you gonna make your point or are we going to stay lost in nostalgia?"

"I know not if you truly care for the Dol Amroth prince, but I know no good would come of it. You are to sail to Aman in a year, or so you tell me. That is a place he cannot follow."

She let out a sigh. "I'm well aware of this," she muttered, her face flushing. "And I tried to explain that to him all last night, but he insists he does not care."

"He has only known you for a day. How can he be this deeply infatuated?"

"The war. He saw me save Faramir's life during the war."

Ah, now it all finally made sense. I had not been in the city when that event occurred, but had heard many soldiers of Gondor speak of it. Faramir considered himself forever in debt to Claire, something, I had noticed, my sister-in-law did not take lightly.

"Well," I muttered, opening a door to the barracks and sending her through. "That, sister, seems to be an interesting twist of fate."

Inside, the clanging of swords met our ears and talk of this matter was ended for now. I would speak to Rachel about this, for she would certainly be more successful than I was with the words I spoke to Claire.

I expected Claire to sit and wait out until late morning in an effort to avoid Erchirion, but she walked right over to an array of targets, pulling a knife from her boot and tossing it expertly close to the centered red dot. American women, there was certainly nothing else like them.

I intended to relieve Erkenbrand from the clanging of swords, for he had done nothing wrong, as he said. But Erkenbrand was not sparring. He was watching the fight from a bench.

Rimbon was sparring with Princess Lothiriel.

* * *

-Rachel-

A knock sounded on my door, waking me instantly. The sun wasn't high in the sky yet, making it maybe mid-morning. I guess I had missed breakfast. I expected Éomer to be beside me when I woke, but he was gone, as were the boots I had yanked off his feet last night and thrown across the room. He must have been in the barracks with Rimbon and Erkenbrand.

The knock sounded again and I realized I was still naked from last night's exploits. I groggily moved from the bed and dug around the room for my robe, which had been torn off in the same manner as the boots. "Just a minute," I called to the door. I found my robe slung on top of the vanity's surface and pulled it on haphazardly, tying it securely as I went to open the door.

I was expecting breakfast, but was sorely disappointed. "Prince Erchirion," I said, noticing for the first time that my robe was on inside out.

"Lady Rachel," he said with a small bow, eyeing my wrinkled robe and disheveled hair. "I seem to have caught you at an inconvenient time."

"My husband must have decided to let me sleep in. But I'm awake now. What can I do for you?"

He stood outside the door awkwardly, choosing his words carefully. "I wondered if I should come to you at all, but seeing as I would like to keep what happened last night quiet, I couldn't find it in me to seek the help of my new cousin Kristen."

I leaned against the frame of the door. "You're here about Claire."

"I know not what I've done to offend your sister, my lady. I only wish to make things right, but she will not accept my apology."

I didn't really want to have this conversation in the hallway, but my room was very much unpresentable with clothes thrown every which way and bits of wine staining the sheets. And I was pretty sure it was odorous in there and I prayed that the long-dried sweat on my skin was not pungent enough to reach the prince's nose.

"Listen," I said carefully. "I don't want to offend you, my lord, but if you want my advice, that's certainly all that will happen."

"You will not offend me, my lady. I fear last night my temper had the better of me. I promise I will keep a cool head if you would gift me your guidance."

I took a deep breath, closing the door behind me as wrapping my arms around my chest. A bench sat against the wall and I took a seat, motioning for the prince to sit beside me, which he did. "What you did last night in defense of your sister was perfectly reasonable, though I believe you did it for the wrong reasons."

"Please, explain further," he begged.

"She is your little sister. The need to protect her from people you have been warned against is understandable, even if those warnings were false. But doing what you did under the justification that she can't do as she did because she is female is what angered me and Claire. If you are free to do as you wish, as a man, why should it be any different for your sister?"

He gave me a confused look, like this idea had never occurred to him. "When I first came to Middle-earth," I explained. "I was lucky enough to land amongst friends who would instantly accept me for who I was; reckless, sometimes angry, and…well, rather feministic. But the Men of Rohan, especially the man I now call my uncle, were not so easily accepting of my desires to aid in the war. So I will try explain to you, as I have to countless men of the Mark. Without regards to gender, what would be the more painful death in war, a practiced adult, or a small child?"

"A small child, my lady, though I'm not sure where you are going with this."

I smiled, hopefully encouraging him to stick with me. "My answer is the same, prince. So why would Thèoden King force young male children to fight a host of ten thousand Uruk-hai instead of fifty practiced women, all of age and in charge of their own minds?"

The prince said nothing, so I continued. "The reasons to keep a woman from doing as she wishes are outdated and foolish. A woman should never be considered less than a man, nor are her reasons and thoughts less than that of her opposites. When Lothiriel kissed my guardsman, for whatever her reasons might have been, your intervening because you deemed her choice to be that of a foolish woman was insulting to Claire. Having dealt with these thoughts throughout the Riddermark and seeing it as a change throughout the land has been rewarding to say the least. Unfortunately, the practices my country have adopted have not reached beyond our borders. I can't blame you, my lord, for thinking the way you do as you have had these thoughts your whole life. It is hard to change the mind of a man who may lose sense of superiority if he were to change his ways. But, I'm afraid if you want to win the heart of my sister, you must change and apologize for that reason."

I could see the prince struggling to understand and I hoped my message got through. "And if she is to forgive me, where do I go from there?"

"Consider the consequences," I said, very seriously. "Claire would have told you of her fate to sail West. What you decide to be your course of action in regards to that, I can't intervene. But if you've weighed the pros and cons and you decided that you want to pursue my sister further, do it with my blessing. She is stubborn and will try to push you away, but don't give up. She loves forests, especially at night when she can clearly hear the sounds of nature. She is a vegetarian, so don't try to win her affections through a massive Gondorian feast. And she cares deeply for her horse Arrod, as he was a gift from Elessar after the war, and enjoys riding him often. That's about as much as I can tell you, for I would hate to make it too easy."

He stood and bowed. "Thank you, my lady. I will do my best to take your advice to heart."

He started to walk away, but I wasn't finished. "Erchirion, one more thing. Apologize to your sister as well. This would be a stupid thing to drive siblings apart."

* * *

-Claire-

When Éomer lost it with Lothiriel in the barracks was when I decided I would rather face a stubborn prince than my angry brother-in-law.

My leg had seen much more use these last two days than it was used to, and I figured it could use the break of a hot bath. Really, there were few things I liked about Gondor, for the hard stone and tiles made me remember the difficult times of war spent inside Minas Tirith, or worse, Orthanc. I still shuddered whenever I saw obsidian. But their access to hot water? That could never go amiss.

I found a maid not far from my room and asked for a bath to be drawn. This was one of the things I did like about Gondor: plumbing. If I was in residence in Bree, I had to heat up the water by the kettle, so I never felt particularly clean. If in Tuckborough, I bathed in rivers and streams, which was even colder.

The room I was currently living in had a tub behind a screen with a pump of hot, running water. Bliss. The maid who drew it came out from behind and offered to wash my hair, but I declined. That would have been too weird for me.

I was surprised Erchirion never showed up. Though, that could be due to the fact he thought me in the barracks with my rather large brother-in-law as protection. I loved Éomer like family and was grateful for his help this morning. But what he said about the way I looked at him and Rachel…was it so obvious?

I had admitted these feelings to Erchirion in a moment of weakness. I was angry about my leg after Kristen's prompting, jealous of the way Faramir had been looking at her. In that moment on the balcony, I had found a most willing soul to show me some comfort, and I seized the opportunity. That didn't make me a bad person. If Men of Middle-earth could wander into a tavern and come out of it with a woman of their choice to end their urgings, what was so wrong about that stupid kiss? It's not like I had slept with him.

I shook my head, dunking it under the water and coming back up dripping wet. A bottle of oil was set out by the maid and I lathered it in my hands before applying generously to my think hair. Rachel and I had hair much thicker than Kristen's, though mine was the clear winner. I needed nearly half the bottle of oil before it was entirely lathered.

I worked on rinsing each strand, doing my best to keep my leg still. The warm water was easing its nagging throb, for which I was happy to not have to deal with it.

When the water was no longer warm enough, I decided I needed to get out before I pruned up. My leg welcomed the cooler air as it exited the water and the maid had left a fluffy towel for me near the tub.

Living as simply as I did, did not allow for the great luxuries that Gondor had to offer. I had no maids, not stable hands, no cooks. Rachel and Kristen gave me stipends of gold whenever I visited, so I was never without means. Plus, Hobbits were all so generous. Eating eight meals a day as they did, did not allow for expensive groceries. My biggest expenses came whenever I was in Bree and found myself in need of services the Hobbits couldn't provide. Sometimes Arrod needed a new shoe or my pants had become too worn to wear anymore. Of course, Butterbur, the innkeeper at the Prancing Pony, had been most accommodating in offering me a part-time job since his previous bar maid, Amaril, had run off with Kelleth of the North.

I picked a split-skirt from my saddle bag of clothes, for I intended to go riding today. I rode Arrod practically every day, for I knew he hated being cooped up. As I was tightening the laces on my boots, a knock sounded on my door.

"Lothiriel?" I asked, surprised when I opened the door.

"Your brother-in-law is quite the piece of work," she said, looking exasperated.

"You mean Éomer? He carries a temper, but rarely have I met it myself."

"Forgive me for intruding, my lady," the princess said with a slight bow. "But I was in need of company and knew not where else to go. Last night you proved a comfort to me and I was hoping I could find that again?"

"Absolutely," I said, stepping away from the entrance to the room and letting her in.

She took a look around the room, sitting down in one of the chairs. "This is quite a small bedchamber. I would think, as the sister to the Lady of Emyn Arnen, you could secure finer accommodations."

"I prefer to keep things simple," I muttered, taking the seat across from her.

She glanced at my split-skirt. "Were you planning on riding? I'm sorry if I'm inconveniencing you."

"You're not, really. My horse is in no hurry." An awkward silence took over then, and I tried to dull the pain. "Are you alright after last night?"

With a small sigh, she sunk into the chair, all sense of royal-ness leaving as she attempted to relax. "Actually, my lady, I came mostly to explain myself. Rimbon is still in the barracks, fighting a losing battle with the Marshal of the Mark because of my behavior, as he did last night."

"You don't have to explain, princess. Your life is your own and none of my business."

"Please, dispense with the title. Call me Lothiriel."

"As long as you call me Claire," I said with a smile.

She looked comforted by that. "Claire, I must explain. I would not have you or Lady Rachel having unkind thoughts about me, especially when Rimbon is involved."

"Then explain," I said calmly.

"Upon my arrival, I met Lord Éomer in the stables, along with Rimbon and the third Rider, Erkenbrand. I'll not lie and say that I wasn't…enamored by the Marshal, for I was not informed that he had been married two months ago. Even my father was surprised at the news and I do hope Lady Rachel will not think ill of me because of it."

"If Rachel thinks ill of you, it would be for that reason," I admitted. "But I can assure you, after last night, you have an ally in my sister."

She smiled in relief and continued her explanation. "I do not wish to utter this secret, but if Lady Rachel is your sister, I expect you are familiar with her actions. I regret to say, I caught her and Lord Éomer in the stables the next morning under a provocative display. I was not expecting to find such a thing so early in the morning and in the public stables, but I did, nonetheless. It was after seeing that, my eldest brother, Elphir, informed me that the Marshal and the woman I thought to be a prostitute were married."

I laughed and she looked shocked that I found humor in the situation. "You thought Rachel was a prostitute?"

"She was in her nightwear. I knew not what to think."

"I probably would have thought the same thing. Please, continue."

She looked so surprised, I worried if she'd even be able to, but she did. "I was upset at Lord Éomer, for seemingly imposing on my company. I met Rimbon before the party and he wondered why I was distressed. And soon I found myself sharing more and more with the Rider, and he with me. It was nice, the attention he gave me. I left to ready for the party and quickly found it dull so I went to the stables to find comfort in my mare. I did not expect to find Rimbon there, for he told me his plans were to celebrate Flynn's birth with the villagers.

"I asked him to find me after the party in the gardens. There are so many rumors that circulate throughout Gondor about the Rohirrim. And after finding Lord Éomer and Lady Rachel in the barn, I may have made some incorrect assumptions. When Rimbon found me in the garden, I knew he had been drinking. I assumed he would find my title and position intimidating, and I was right. I used his intoxication against him and goaded him into kissing me. I did not know Erchirion had followed me from the party. I assumed he was with you."

"He was," I explained. "But he didn't follow you. I asked him to go to the gardens, so that was on me. When we found you and Rimbon, his reaction surprised me."

"My father and eldest brothers have always been protective of me," she went on. "Elphir and Erchirion would go as far as to occupy me with mundane chores to keep me from leaving the palace. Amrothos is different. It's not that he does not love me, but I feel as if he knew that the protectiveness of my brothers and father was overwhelming. I wish he had come on this trip."

"Why didn't he?"

"He is in courtship with a woman from Dol Amroth's village. He did not want to part with her. It is quite the scandal in our home, presently."

"Why is it a scandal?"

"Because she is a peasant," the princess answered simply.

"But I'm a peasant," I said, aware of the anxiety that was creeping into my mind. "And you don't seem to mind that Erchirion and I…"

"But, you are not a peasant," Lothiriel said with a laugh. "You have two sisters in royal court. You hold a Lady title."

"But I'm not of noble birth," I argued. "When I'm not here, I live in the woods or in Bree. I'm very much a peasant, Lothiriel."

"Say what you feel you must," she sighed. "But Aranel and Amrothos cause much gossip, nonetheless."

I decided to put the stupid nagging thoughts away. What did it matter if I was a peasant or not? It's not like I would be encouraging Erchirion's pursuits any longer. "Do you want to explain this morning in the barracks?" I asked.

"Yes. This morning, again was my fault. I did not think the Marshal would rise so early for a punishment that was rather wrongly given. I was to be gone from the barracks by breakfast."

"But why go in the first place?"

She let out a sheepish smile. "Growing up with three older brothers who are all warriors, it was quite easy to pick up things, weather you wanted to or not. When I was younger, after my mother died, Elphir thought it would be good for me to let out anger and frustration through a sword rather than some task of the household. My father protested. After he found out about the sword lessons, he and my aunt Ivriniel did their best to turn me into a proper lady. I suppose they succeeded, in some ways. However, I never did stop practicing the sword with Elphir in secret.

"Since I knew Rimbon would be sparring in the barracks, I went there before sunrise. For a moment, I simply watched, but the other Rider, Erkenbrand, asked me to join them. I do not think he expected me to even be able to lift the sword. Those Riders are quite skilled, much more than I. But it did not matter. The Marshal put a stop to it at once and sent me back to the palace."

"Do not get angry with Éomer," I said. "He only worries of the reputation of Rohan in Gondor. Rimbon isn't doing very well at winning the favor of your father and, subsequently, the people of Dol Amroth."

"I've no problem with the Rohirim, obviously," she muttered. "Though I'll not deny my family does heed the gossip."

"I can speak to Éomer if you want," I offered.

"Actually, I was wondering if you might speak to Erchirion."

I let out a short laugh. "I doubt your brother will sway his protectiveness on my account."

It was Lothiriel's turn to laugh. "You have no idea how much my brother truly idolizes you, Claire. In fact, he stayed in Minas Tirith after the end of the war in hopes of running into you. He tried to catch your attention at Elessar's coronation, but you were occupied with your sisters and the Elves. He even tried to dance with you at the party after the war and at Kristen and Faramir's wedding, but I fear my brother does not dance often. I don't think he had the courage."

"He told you these things?" I asked, slightly shocked.

"Amrothos told me. I believe Erchirion needed a confidante that would not tease him as Elphir and I certainly would have."

I let my head fall into my hands. "This is not good, Lothiriel."

"And why not?" she countered. "After watching you both last night, you seem to get along. You come from a family of nobles, even if you are not of noble blood. And, after last night, I certainly wouldn't mind having you as a sister-in-law."

"Woah," I said, shocked at her forwardness. "Let's not use terms like 'sister-in-law'. I only met your brother yesterday. Unfortunately, it doesn't even matter. I can't tie myself to any relationship." I explained my condition for the second time in two days. I was growing rather tired of it.

Lothiriel looked surprised, but she seemed capable of handling it. "One year," she muttered.

"It's not that long. I can't allow myself to do this to your brother. It would be so wrong of me."

She sat silent for a moment, staring at her hands in her lap. "I think this may be for Erchirion to decide, not just you. Certainly not me. Does he know?"

"Yes. He is well aware."

"Before or after you kissed?"

"Before."

She let out a small smile. "It seems my brother may have already made his decision."

I wanted to respond, but there was another knock on the door. I figured it was Kristen or Rachel, wondering why I wasn't at breakfast. I noticed Lothiriel jump at the sudden noise, but I rose to answer. It wasn't Kristen or Rachel.

"Erchirion?" I said, momentarily losing the formalities I had set in place. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize," he said, bowing his head. "Last night, I believe I may have insulted your culture and beliefs. That was very wrong of me, my lady. And make no mistake, I will also be apologizing to my sister. But first, will you accept my apology?"

Wowza, that's not what I was expecting, especially after this morning's ambush. "Who told you to apologize?" I asked. "You didn't come up with it on your own."

"It was Lady Rachel," he said, stroking his arm nervously. "I knew not what had upset you so, and she enlightened me. I hope it's alright that I pursued her advice?"

"It was most certainly not alright," I snapped. "Erchirion, you are the most imposing, stubborn, insistent, and forward man I've ever met."

I noticed the edges of his mouth turn up slightly. "That does not sound like you are denying me forgiveness."

"Fine," I said, giving in. "I forgive you. But it doesn't change the fact that this…whatever this is, cannot happen."

"And why not?"

"You know why not," I said, not wanting to explain it, yet again. "I told you last night."

"Perhaps, seeing as you are already dressed for it, we could go riding and I can explain to you why I do not think it matters."

My stomach flipped. He stared me down with those grey eyes of his, begging me to say yes. Son of a bitch, his eyes were beautiful. Lothiriel's eyes were the same color, yet they did not hold the expressiveness. "Don't you have someone else you need to apologize to?" I said, making an effort to ignore the pleading of those gorgeous eyes.

"I know not where Lothiriel is. I cannot find her."

I pushed my door, opening it wider and revealing Lothiriel inside. She waved at her brother and Erchirion suddenly grew red at the neck. I tried to contain my laughter at his embarrassment, but to no avail. I attempted to hide it as a cough.

"Sister, what are you doing here?"

"Talking with Claire," she said. "We were bonding over our mutual opinions of your stupidity."

He looked about ready to explode, and I decided Lothiriel didn't need to deal with it any further. "Didn't you have something you wanted to say to your sister?" I prompted. His eyes flashed to me, seeking pity they would not get.

He stood straighter, letting out a breath. "Lottie, I'm sorry for what I did last night," he said, seemingly forcing the words out. "You are an adult now and those are your choices to make. As your older brother, I will always be protective of you, but what I did to Rimbon was plagued by wrong reasoning. I have informed Father that I will stay with you in Emyn Arnen, if you still wish to holiday here."

"You didn't tell Father about Rimbon, did you?"

"The Rider would be dead if I had," Erchirion mumbled. "Which is why, if we stay, you must promise to control yourself, Lottie."

Her eyes darted to me, then back to her brother. "Will you control yourself while were here?" she asked calmly.

It was my turn to blush, but I kept my mouth shut, wondering what the prince would say. "It seems you have caught me in a stalemate," the prince said. "Alright, Lothiriel, you win. Not a word will be uttered to Father. But if I see anything or hear anything, then my promise is void. That also goes for if the Rider mistreats you in anyway."

I expected her to protest, but instead, she ran across the room into her brother's arms. "Thank you, Erchie. And I accept your apology."

He hugged her back. "I mean it, Lothiriel. Father will have my arse for this if anything amiss happens."

I rolled my eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Erchirion. Rachel had told me of the fight she and Éomer had had over her sexual exploits before coming to Middle-earth. But with Rachel, it had only been one guy. Kristen had done the deed with more than one guy, and she hadn't told me what Faramir had said to that, only that he wasn't happy. I too, was not a virgin, but that territory for me went way deeper than Rachel or Kristen. If I allowed Erchirion to continue his interest in me, that would be a not-so-pleasant conversation in the future. However, I still wasn't keen on letting him pursue further, so it looked like I would be avoiding that.

When the siblings broke apart, Lothiriel was beaming at me. I doubt she got things to go her way like this very often, and I was happy for her. "Do go riding with my brother, Claire. While he may be a fool, he is not an idiot. And, as you can see, he has his moments."

I let out a big sigh, drawing out the anticipation. "Fine," I agreed. "But only because I was planning on riding anyway."

 _Please Review!_


	25. Riding

_Chapter 7: Riding_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Claire-

Why did I agree to this? Didn't I just promise myself that I would start ignoring the prince if he didn't leave me alone?

"Arrod," I muttered, securing the girth around his middle. "If I do anything stupid, you must buck me."

"It would be a shame for you to harm yourself on my account," Erchirion said, coming into the stables, a saddle bag over his shoulder.

"What's in the bag?" I asked, ignoring his quip.

"It's for later," he said, strapping it to his horse, a reddish-brown Roan horse before saddling the beast.

"Do you ride much in Dol Amroth?"

"Me? No, I leave that to Lothiriel and Amrothos."

"Then why did you offer to ride with me today?"

"I did not say I don't enjoy riding, only that I don't do it often," the prince countered. "And your sister mentioned the love you hold for your own steed."

I groaned, untying Arrod from his post. "I'm gonna kill her."

"I think murder may be a bit too messy for what she did, Lady Claire."

"I told you, you don't have to use a title," I said. "I meant it when I said I didn't earn it."

He finished saddling, pulling his horse from the pen. "This is Goforth. A ruddy foul beast he can be. In fact, before I met that mare over there, I thought him to be rather temperamental. Now, I realize I have it quite lucky."

I looked over to where he was pointing and stifled a chuckle. "That's Rachel's horse, Windfola."

"Your sister rides such a nag?"

"Careful, that nag is half-Meara. I've seen her tear the arm off an Orc with her teeth." Without waiting for a response, I hoisted myself onto Arrod. "Try to keep up if you can, prince," I taunted, sending Arrod flying.

I didn't look back to see if he was able to follow. It would be his own fault if he didn't. But Arrod apparently didn't want to speed along, for he was soon slowing down to a lazy trot. "You're lucky Aragorn gave you to me," I muttered, reaching out to caressing his neck. "If you had been given back to the Riders, you would never be this spoiled."

I heard the pounding of hooves beside me along with Erchirion's voice. "Was it really necessary to race from the barn?"

"You said you wanted to ride with me. This is how I ride."

"Your horse begs to differ, Claire," he said, Goforth matching Arrod's trots. "Elphir thinks horses are not trainable. He prefers his own feet on the ground most of the time."

"You sure do talk about your family a lot."

"They are what I have in this life that matters to me the most," he said simply. "Do you have family? Other than your sisters, I mean. Where are your parents? Other siblings?"

"Don't you know?" I said, surprised. "I figured everyone knew at this point."

"Knew what?"

"Rachel and Kristen aren't actually my sisters," I explained. "Not by blood anyway. We came to Middle-earth during the war. We're not from Arda."

"You said you were from South Carolina, though I have never heard of such a place."

"That's because it's in a different realm. One far away and unreachable. So no, other than Rachel and Kristen, I have no family. At least, not anymore."

"I did not mean to pry," he said. "Obviously this upsets you."

"Like I said, I thought everyone knew."

"I'll admit, I heard rumors, but I never believed them to be true."

"Well, then I suppose prying is the only way you'll get your answers," I muttered.

"So, you are willing to answer my questions?" he said, a hint of glee in his voice.

"Maybe. Now that we're alone and away from the city, we have very little else to do."

"I suppose then, I will ask your age."

"It is impolite to ask anyone their age, especially a woman," I chipped.

"I would not be offended if you asked it of me. Twenty-six is the answer."

I decided it was not a harmful question. "Twenty-two."

"And I am correct in assuming your heart is not already taken?"

"That is a bit too personal, prince," I said. If he wanted answers, he'd have to work for them.

"One must be sure, is all. A simple yes or no would suffice."

"No," I muttered, my eyes stuck to the ground.

"That is not unpleasant news, I must say. I had worried, I'll admit. On the balcony at the party, you had mentioned not having anyone in this world, but then I thought, perhaps love exists outside of Arda for you."

"It does not, prince," I muttered. I wished desperately that he would drop this subject.

"You needn't be so formal, Claire," he said. "We needn't talk of past love now, either. Nor of family, if that causes you grief. Perhaps you could tell me of the Shire?"

"You are rather good prying, I'll not deny it."

He let out a soft sigh. "I know not why you are reluctant to share."

"I have explained multiple times to you why I am reluctant, my lord."

"And I have explained to you that I do not care."

I pulled Arrod's reins and hopped off his back. "That's it!" I yelled. "I should not have let you come with me. I have tried time and time again to give you the hint, but you can't seem to take it. I cannot do what you ask of me, Erchirion. I do not have that vileness in my heart to inevitably hurt your own. If you do not care, then you must understand that I do. I…I do not want to hurt you."

As I yelled, I was too focused on my words to notice he had also descended his horse and walked toward me. As soon as I finished my speech, his mouth landed upon my own. At first, I tried to break free, but soon, I found myself melting into the kiss, just as I had done last night. I felt his fingers twist in my hair and I stopped pushing at his chest and instead, rested my palms against it. Why did this prince turn me into such an idiot?

He broke the kiss all too soon, and I stood on my tiptoes, trying to return to his lips, but he stopped me, placing a finger on my own. "That was not a vile thing you just did," he said. "Nor did it hurt me in any way. After the party, I found myself tossing and turning in my chambers, wondering how I could be doing this to myself. Doing this to you. I came to one simple decision, Claire: I do not care. But that was not enough, for that decision does not take you into account at all. But then I remembered how you asked me to stay. This morning you tried to convince me it was a mistake, but I knew better. This kiss proves I am right, for you fought it at first, but you gave in."

He took a deep breath and he backed away from me. "If you tell me that you do not want me, then I shall stop. For I told you, I was raised a gentleman. Even if you do not mean it, I shall stop. But I ask you, Lady of Fire and Hope to please allow your heart to speak over your mind for just once."

Staring into his mesmerizing grey eyes, my thoughts still fuzzy from his kiss, my brain pleaded with my heart. I could not do this to him.

 _But he wants you to_ , my heart said.

"Erchirion," I said, walking back and closing the space between us. "I want you."

Fireworks seemed to light up in his eyes as he stared, slightly shocked into my own. He reached up to caress my face. "Then you shall have me," he whispered.

And with that, we continued on our ride.

* * *

Turns out, the stuff he had in the saddle bag was food. He had packed a picnic, which had me extremely worried. A good bit of Middle-earth delicacies were meat-based. And since I only ate fish, I hoped that he didn't think me rude when I denied the rabbit or pork or whatever he brought.

As it turns out, I had nothing to worry about. "There's no meat," I noted, pulling out bread, cheese, and various fruits and nuts.

He looked confused. "Did you want meat? Lady Rachel said you did not partake."

I rolled my eyes, pulling the knife from my boot and cutting the cheese. "What else did Rachel tell you?"

"Not much," he said, a grin showing on his face. "She said she didn't want to make it too easy."

"She should mind her own business. I didn't meddle when it came to her and Éomer. What else did she tell you?"

"She mentioned Arrod was a gift from Elessar. I did not realize you knew the king."

"Not as well as Rachel. He, along with Legolas and Gimli, found her on the plains of Rohan. I can't tell you how she came to be in that part of Middle-earth. Perhaps the Valar knew she needed to be amongst the horse-lords."

"That doesn't explain your horse, though I am enjoying the story," he joked, grabbing a handful of grapes.

"Arrod, along with two other horses were given to the four travelers. Aragorn claimed Arrod. Rachel was given Theybrush, a mighty chestnut steed. He perished on Pelennor by the hands of the Witch-king moments before Rachel killed him. After the war was over, I traveled to Rivendell. Before leaving, Aragorn gifted me Arrod and this knife _. Limwen_ , he named it."

"I must admit, I do not know much Sindarin."

"So you can neither dance, nor speak to Elves?" I joked, adding a slice of cheese to bread. "I'm starting to wonder what good you are, prince."

"Ah, but how many nobles do you know that can sail?"

"Is that what you do with your time? I was starting to wonder if you had a hobby other than chasing blondes around Emyn Arnen."

He chuckled. "I do love the sea. I was born into it, after all. My father would tell me when I was younger that saltwater ran through my veins. I was never…overly fantastic with a sword. The glory of battle belonged to my brothers. Nor was I ever good at politics. That talent had been given to Elphir and Lothiriel. But as much as we all love the ocean, I am the one the sea calls to. Before the war, I had planned an epic voyage across the Sundering Seas. It was only after a crew had been assembled, Denathor called Gondor to war, and my family with it."

I lay down on the blanket with him, bringing our heads to the same level. The sun, now high in the noon sky, illuminated his face. He appeared somewhat sad at his reminiscing, twisting a ring on his right hand. Obviously, that had been an important thing for him to share. So I decided to return the favor.

"I don't know if I ever had dreams like that," I mumbled. "I mean, I always wanted to travel. Simply being able to lay my eyes onto an important piece of history would have satisfied me. And I had the opportunity to do just that with my life. Then I came here."

I paused, figuring he'd want to ask me how it happened. How I came to be here, but he did not. His gaze simply moved from the ring to my face, staring me down with those mesmerizing eyes of his, reflecting beautifully in the sunlight. I cleared my throat, continuing. "I don't know how much you know of my past. Everyone in my life knows the story and it's been a long time since I've had to explain it. But Rachel, Kristen, and I are not from here. I could not describe South Carolina to you if I tried. But what you'll find most interesting, is that this place—Arda—is a story. And everyone we know today, including you, were characters in those stories.

"I told you last night on the balcony that it wasn't what I thought it would be. Life here is difficult. And coming here during a time of war did not do it justice. All I wanted to do was go home. But then the war was over. I moved to the Shire, spent some time on my own in Bree. I found myself building some kind of life here. And I enjoyed it.

"Then, it was all taken away when that arrow hit my thigh. It seems to be my curse that whenever things start going my way, it will get taken from me."

I felt a tear fall from my eye. I hadn't realized I'd started crying. Erchirion didn't move. He simply kept his gaze, seemingly transfixed on my face. And since he still said nothing, my mouth continued, filling the silence with these words I had never uttered to anyone. Not even Rachel or Kristen.

"It's an interesting thing, to build a life and lose it before you can really start living. It's why I have tried to push you away. You have a life, Erchirion. A family that loves you, a home by the sea that you adore. I know what it's like to lose those things. And being with me would take all that away from you. I cannot plant any more roots. And I can't ask you to dig yours up. Because as much as I try to be selfless, I am not. I would ask you to come with me, in the end. And that is something I cannot do."

That did it. He moved from his spot, pulling me back into a sitting position and wrapping his arms around me. And I cried into his shoulder, tears I had yet to shed in the time I had acquired this injury. All of the sadness and resentment I felt poured from my eyes and onto his tunic, but he only held me tighter. I don't know how long I cried, but he never let me go.

When I did stop, I sniffed and tried to mutter an apology, but he wouldn't have it. "Speak not, my Lady of Fire," he muttered softly. "The secrets you shared have taken their toll on you." And he kissed my forehead with absolute gentleness.

We sat there for a long time, his fingers stroking the fine hairs at the base of my head. I'm not sure how we ended up laying down entangled in each other's arms. Soon, even though it was only mid-day, I felt my eyes drooping for I was more comfortable in his arms than I had been in a long time.

* * *

When I woke, the sun had sunk significantly in the sky. Nature was calling, but unfortunately for my bladder, I couldn't move. Prince Erchirion slept beside me, his arm pinning me to the ground. I looked into his face, so peaceful in sleep. I had not had the chance to study his features, getting lost in his eyes most of the time. But since they were now behind his lids, I was not distracted. His dark hair, almost black, was not as long as most men in Middle-earth. I wondered why he kept it short. He was also void of a beard. He was so different than most of the men I encountered here. Slowly, as not to wake him, I pulled out my hand and gently stroked his hair. I had never touched it before, though his fingers had found themselves entangled in my own three times now. It was rough, but not unpleasant. Clearly, it had met the saltwater many times over.

He shifted gently, and I knew he had woken. His eyes fluttered open, and again, they were the only thing I could focus on. "What are you doing?" he asked. Not like he was annoyed. More like he was amused.

"Nothing," I said, pulling my hand back. "It's just…you have me pinned to the ground. I couldn't move."

He lifted his arm, sitting up. He suddenly looked embarrassed. "I do apologize, my lady. I should not have…this was inappropriate."

I rolled my eyes and leaned forward and gently placed my lips on his cheek. I felt his jaw clench and giggled. "Suddenly you're so worried about what's proper?" I asked, pulling back. "I believe we have broken those boundaries more than once."

He grinned. "Does this mean you're going to stop pushing me away?"

I frowned, not expecting the question. I didn't want to answer because I honestly didn't know. Instead, I stood, straightening my skirt. "I'll be right back," I said, limping off towards a large group of trees.

There was a small stream down there and after I relieved myself, I splashed some cool water on my skin and gargled a bit in my mouth. I headed back in the direction I thought I had come through, but soon, found myself lost amongst the trees. I shook my head. I must have gone in the wrong direction. I walked back towards the stream, but again, I could not find it. What the hell?

"Erchirion!" I called. "Erchirion!" Dammit, how did I get lost? I lived in an effing forest. They were not this hard to navigate.

"Claire?" I heard him call.

"I'm in the wood!" I called back. Soon, I heard the clopping of hooves. Erchirion broke the tree line, Arrod and Goforth in tow.

"Did you get lost?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure how. I tried to leave the same way I came."

"How strange," he said, walking towards me and handing me Arrod's reins. But I tensed as Erchirion's hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder. "There are figures in the wood," he whispered. "I saw one. He was a blend in the trees."

I moved my hand to _Limwen_ , grabbing her short hilt. "Erchirion, I am no fighter," I whispered back, looking at him.

His sea-grey eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Good thing I am, my lady."

Suddenly, his sword was in his hand. "Show yourself," he called into the trees. I kept my hand on _Limwen_ , but did not draw her.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, many figures, all surrounding us, came out of the wood, bows drawn at our heads. "You dare raise a weapon at us in our own domain?" one of them said, stepping forward.

He wore a green cloak and brown gloves. The hood of his cloak covered most of his head. All but his eyes were obscured by a cloth covering his face.

"This is the domain of my cousin, Prince Faramir of Ithilian," Erchirion said, stepping in front of me, creating a barrier between myself and the stranger, though multiple arrows were pointed at my head.

"This wood is the dwelling of the Rangers, given to us by Captain Faramir after the war," he said. "You're his cousin, you say?"

"Aye, for my part. I am Prince Erchirion of Dol Amroth. This woman is Lady Claire, sister to your prince's wife."

I could not tell what the Ranger was thinking, since his face was obscured. "How do I know you're not lying, laddie?"

"Because of this," I said, reaching for my neck and pulling off the necklace Alanric had gifted me. The six-pronged star of the Northern Rangers adorned the charm.

The eyes of the stranger flashed. "That is the symbol of our Northern cousins," he said. "Who gave that to you?"

"Alanric, son of Kellric."

His eyes probed me, probably trying to figure out if I was lying or not. He waved his hand at his companions and their bows lowered. Erchirion lowered his sword as well, though his body was still tensed.

"Alanric is a good lad," the stranger said, pulling the cloth from his face, revealing a frowning mouth and black stubble. "I do not believe you to be lying about him, missy."

Erchirion's eyes narrowed. "She is a Lady of this realm, sir. And you will address her as such."

I wanted to punch him in the gut, but the stranger laughed. "You may be a prince outside of these trees, laddie. But now, you're in my wood. You are not my king, nor are you my prince, boy."

I grew quickly tired of their power struggle. "You can call me whatever pleases you Ranger, it matters not to me. We only wish to exit your wood and return to Emyn Arnen. Can you lead us out and let us part in peace?"

"Aye, miss. I can take you and your brute to the wood's edge. So long as he never returns."

Erchirion started to say something, but I elbowed him in the side. "He's not my brute, Ranger. Just my companion."

"As you say, miss," he said. I grabbed Arrod's reins and followed the Ranger through the wood, which never got that thick compared to the trees of Tuckborough, which was even less than Fanghorn. I spent too much time in the woods.

It was a thirty minute walk, and by the end, my leg was throbbing once more. My cane was still strapped to Arrod's side, so I used his reins as support. Erchirion was giving me worried looks, but I ignored him.

"Here we are, miss," The Ranger said. "Emyn Arnen lies over the ridge there."

"Thank you," I said. "I shall tell Prince Faramir of your help."

The Ranger looked smug. "Don't know why my prince would care much, miss, but I thank you all the same. If you see Alanric, send my regards. That goes for Kelleth and Trover as well."

"Absolutely, though I don't know your name."

"Anborn, my lady," he said with a slight bow. He turned to Erchirion. "That's how you earn the respect of a Ranger, laddie. You could learn a lot from your lass, there."

Erchirion said nothing. He didn't so much as nod as the Ranger party slipped back into the trees.

"You were no help at all," I said, climbing back on Arrod to get off my leg.

"You may not use your title as I do, Claire. But in my country, what that man did was a great disrespect."

"Rangers are different than most Men," I explained as he climbed onto his horse. "They are not saddled by kings or princes. Their dwellings are their realms. If they were to enter Dol Amroth, they would show you respect, no doubt. They do not view their woods within the confines of Ithilian's or Gondor's rule."

"So you travel with Rangers, then?"

"I wouldn't say I travel with them, but I have been known to befriend a few. Namely the three brothers I mentioned back there." I hesitated before sharing this next part. "They saved my life when I was attacked in Tuckborough. They killed the Orc party and brought me to Tom Bombadil. I owe those three my life."

"You did not tell me that," he said.

"You never asked."

 _Please Review!_


	26. Dinner

_A/N: The most minor of smut warnings. Really, it's not even smut, but I've had a complaint, so...warning._

 _Chapter 8: Dinner_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Erchirion-

I hadn't expected Claire to fall asleep on our ride. Nor had I expected myself to, for that matter. But after lying awake for half the night, wondering what I had done wrong or if she would change her mind in the morning, sleep fell over me like the warmth of the sun.

When we returned to the stables, I handed Goforth off to one of the lads, needing to bathe before dinner with my father. Claire, it seemed, was not eager for the stable lads to care for Arrod, but understood my haste to bid my father and brother farewell. I kissed her hand in a gentlemanly fashion—for I did not need Faramir's stable boys gossiping—and reluctantly departed.

Elphir was in our linked chambers, packing his bags. "You look…refreshed," he noted as I fell into a chair.

"Meaning?"

"You were up quite early this morning after going to bed rather late. Then I hear you were riding most of the day. I didn't expect you to look so rested."

"Perhaps I slept soundly."

"Or perhaps you weren't riding," Elphir joked. "Did you find someone to ease your restlessness in the village, little brother?"

I groaned. Elphir, before his marriage, was certainly not unfamiliar with the Dol Amroth taverns and its single brothel. To my knowledge, from his sixteenth year, he always had some mistress on hand. The details were not vastly known to me, he being six years older than I. He married Beriana five years ago, but it was not a love-match. My father had arranged it with some acquaintance of Uncle Denathor, much to Elphir's disgust with the idea. Amrothos and I long suspected it was because Father feared Elphir and his ways would end up impregnating some wench, which no one wanted to deal with.

I knew not if they were happy or even content before the war. Lothiriel would, she being Beriana's main confidante, but my elder brother and I did not share those details. No, to Elphir, I was something of a play-thing. The little brother he could live vicariously through, for Amrothos had been much too young for the endeavors he had in mind.

Elphir took me to my first brothel when I was seventeen, only weeks after our mother had passed. He set me up with a whore I had no interest in. Her face had been clad in a powder that stained my clothes and she never even told me her name. How my brother could feast on those intimacies was beyond me. I didn't bed another until the war, the bloodlust circulating through my system, begging for the comfort of a soft touch.

It enamored me how siblings could be so different. I suppose it had something to do with age. Elphir was the oldest, his distance from Lothiriel being thirteen years. Lothiriel and I are also far apart in age, and I suppose that is the biggest similarity between Elphir and myself, the fact that we are protective at heart.

What gave my mind peace about Elphir was that, upon his return from the war, something changed between him and Beriana. I know not if it was the conceiving of Alphros or simply Elphir's need for comfort, but something of genuine care existed between the two of them now.

"Why do you groan that way?" he said, folding a pair of breeches. "I only asked a simple question."

"I am not you, Elphir. I do not race to the nearest whore at the morning's urges."

"That is because your heart is truer than mine, I suppose. So what were you doing all day?"

"Riding," I answered. "Can you not see the dust on my clothes?"

He grinned, his hands still meticulously packing his belongings. "We both know you're not the riding type, Erchie. Unless you are behind the helm of a ship, riding the waves of the ocean."

"Well, today I felt different." I rose from my chair, not keen on discussing this matter. I did not want my family to find out about Claire for now. It was bad enough that Lothiriel knew. If Claire and I were able to come to a mutual conclusion of our relationship, as she and Lady Rachel had suggested, then I would inform my family. However, with Lothiriel's infatuation with the Rider, Rimbon, I may not get the chance to tell them. "I'm taking a bath before dinner," I said, walking briskly to the door to the washroom and closing the door on Elphir.

I started the pump, not minding that the water would not be warm without the aid of a valet, so long as I could get away from Elphir. I had managed to undress and enter the water when a knock sounded on the door to our chambers. I paid it no mind, until…

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have the wrong room."

It was Claire.

"Who are you looking for, my lady? Perhaps I can direct you to their chambers?" Elphir said politely.

"I was looking for Erchirion. One of the maids said he was in this room."

I cursed her lack of formality, getting out of the tub as fast as possible. She shouldn't be speaking to Elphir.

" _Prince_ Erchirion and I are sharing these quarters, my lady," Elphir emphasized. "He is presently in the washroom."

"No, I'm not," I said, bursting out of the washroom like an idiot, a towel wrapped around my waist. Claire stood in the doorway, the blanket from our picnic folded under her arm. Elphir's hand gripped the doorknob with impressive force, his knuckles turning white. I did what little I could to not appear a fool as I straightened my back. "What brings you to my chambers, my lady?"

She raised an eyebrow but, luckily, Elphir was staring at me instead of her, so he could not see the confusion etched on her face. "You left your blanket in a saddle bag," she explained. "It is expensive material, I thought you might want it back."

"I could have retrieved it myself."

I noticed her eyes shoot to Elphir and back to me rather quickly. "But then I would have missed seeing your interesting dinner attire. Do you plan on wearing a towel as well, Prince Elphir?"

I was lucky enough to maintain the composure to keep my features straight. Elphir on the other hand nearly choked at her comment. She looked no longer confused, but somewhat…smug.

"No, my lady, I do not," he managed to get out, turning back to her and holding out his hand. "I'll take the blanket, if you please. And forgive my brother's foolishness, I beg of you."

She handed him the blanket, a smile spreading on her face. "I'll easily forgive his foolishness. His rudeness, however, will not easily be pardoned." With a slight tilt of her head, intended for Elphir, not I, she departed.

Elphir nearly slammed the door shut, whipping his head back at me. "Erchirion, what did you do?"

"I have a bath waiting," I said, attempting to turn around, but my brother stopped me.

"If the bath can wait for her, it can wait for me," he said, pulling me by the shoulder to the chair I had previously occupied. "Now, tell me, what did you do?"

"I have done nothing," I said, crossing my arms over my bare torso. "Lady Claire was merely my riding companion for the day."

"Who went with you?"

"No one. Elphir, why are you concerned?"

"Erchie," he muttered, running his hand over his beard. "You act as if Amrothos tells me nothing."

"And what has Amrothos told you, exactly?"

"Do not play the fool," he snapped. "You have had an infatuation with that girl since the war's ending. You think it secret, but it is clear. You should not have escorted her to the celebrations."

"There is nothing wrong with what I did last night." Not that he knew, anyway.

"Erchirion, what do you think will come of this union? Will she move to Dol Amroth and live there as your pretty wife? Think again. She is playing you, Erchie, though I can't figure out her game."

"And what game could she possibly be playing?"

"The Halfling, Meriadoc, and I were quite the companions last night. The limp she sports? It is an infliction caused by a poison—,"

" _Violeth_ ," I said. "I'm aware of her condition. Do you think she would keep that from me?"

"And you continued to pursue her?" Elphir said, no longer angry. "I do not understand."

"You wouldn't understand," I said, rising from the chair. "From the moment you decided I was old enough to spoil, you've treated me not like a brother, but rather a crutch to use at the taverns and brothels. I let it happen once, Elphir, because you are my big brother and I looked up to you. After that, I paid women extra to leave me be. We do not share similarities when it comes to the heart, which is why I confided in Amrothos rather than you. You are a being I do not believe capable of love—true love—for a woman."

I turned back toward the washroom, but he wasn't done. "Do you love her, brother?"

I sighed, not turning back. "Only time will tell."

I had not the heart to say time was not on our side.

* * *

Dinner that night did not go as planned. My father insisted we eat as a family in his chambers, rather than share the meal with King Elessar, who would be departing with Father and Elphir in the morning. Elphir had practically ran from the room after our row and I found myself entering my father's chambers last. In fact, very last.

"Claire?" I sputtered, noticing the golden sheen of her hair before that of my family's dark counterparts. Lothiriel, I noticed, raised an eyebrow and I composed myself, standing straighter. With a small cough, I hoped my sister was the only one who noticed the informality. "What brings you to my father's chambers so late in the day, my lady?" I asked politely.

She gave me a bitter look. I knew she was angry about how I treated her in my brother's presence, and I'm sure she didn't like it now. "Prince Elphir invited me," she said curtly, turning her head back to Lothiriel.

Elphir looked ready to burst with laughter. He was making me pay for my harsh remarks. Lothiriel was more composed. However, she looked nervous that Claire was here, perhaps because she feared Father finding out about her and Rimbon. I would keep my promise, but I noted, as my sister must have, that Claire had made no such agreement. Nor did Lothiriel promise to keep my interest in Claire a secret from our father.

Imrahil, who I noticed last, was pouring drinks on a tray at the corner of the room. "Erchirion," he said, picking up the tray and bringing it over to the table in the center of the room, placing it down carefully. "So nice of you to grace us with your presence, my son."

I coughed again, doing my best to keep my head clear. The dress Claire had worn was a simple Rohirric fashion, most likely borrowed from her sister, for I knew she did not carry many clothes with her on travels. I noticed the sleeves of the dress were too wide for her arms, yet the waist hugged her curves. The deep red of the dress contrasted nicely to her skin, bringing out the pink hues it contained. The cut was rather low as well, something I did my best to ignore, for I had never seen her in a dress that was so revealing.

"I apologize, father," I said, walking further into the room.

"Will you not properly greet our guest?" he said, picking up two of the wine glasses and handing one to Lothiriel.

I couldn't seem to stop coughing, for my throat felt constantly knotted. I walked over to Claire, bowing my head and offering my hand. Thankfully she took it and I placed a gentle kiss there, doing my best to communicate a silent apology. Based on the look in her eyes, she either didn't get the message, or refused to forgive me. Damn it all, this woman was so temperamental.

"I don't doubt you've all heard the happy news," Lothiriel said, breaking the tension. Bless that girl. "Queen Arwen is with child. I spoke to the king a few hours ago."

Imrahil smiled. "No doubt our king is beside himself with joy. He informed me of the babe at the celebrations last night. Gondor is certainly to be blessed with all the noble infants being born to take over her rule when we have passed. First Alphros, now Flynn. It is truly a thing to celebrate."

Elphir retrieved his own glass and another, which he handed to Claire. I noticed her throw back the contents with impressive resilience as I grabbed my own.

"What do you think of the Queen's pregnancy, my lady?" Elphir asked, sitting down in a chair.

"Arwen is a good friend of mine, as is Aragorn," she said, causing my father's eyes to bulge at the common use of names and her forgoing of titles. "Before the coronation, I spent some time in Rivendell. Arwen and I grew quite close in that time. Aragorn and my sister, Rachel, also share a bond, and through that, I gained his friendship."

"King Elessar," my father said, enunciating the titles. "Is a gift to Gondor. No doubt his offspring will be as well."

The room practically held a stench of uncomfortableness. And Elphir didn't help. "I find it comforting that our king finds friendship in nearly all he meets, even if they are not from Gondor. Will the Riddermark meet this happiness anytime soon seeing as how your sister and the Third Marshal seem quite content in their marriage?"

"I shouldn't speak on behalf of my sister," she said, looking uncomfortable with the question.

Claire's eyes were darting around the room, landing on every member of my family present, save me. "Is something wrong, my lady?" Imrahil asked.

"No, my lord," she said quickly, fingering the empty crystal of her wineglass. "I suppose I am just surprised to have been invited to share dinner with you. I was under the impression that it was a family affair for you to say goodbye to Erchirion and Lothiriel."

Again, I cursed her informality as my father's lips tightened. Elphir, who was never without words, intervened. "I only noticed you had gone riding with my brother today after sharing his company last night at the ball. I'll not deny, I wanted the chance to meet you."

"You went riding together?" my father asked. My stomach was turning harshly, threatening to release its contents. In my father's eyes, what I had done was a dishonor to Claire's reputation. We should have gone out with a chaperone so rumors need not fly. Had she a father or brother, I would have also needed to ask his permission. So many pointless rules I did not want to cope with. Claire was not committed to me in any way and I would not enter into courtship unless she was willing, which, in her condition, she was not.

"It was my invitation," I said, not wanting her to ruin anything with her harsh words. "She had spoken to me of her love of horses and I invited her riding."

"Is that where you were all day?" my father asked.

"It was quite an adventure," Claire said, and I held my arms back from slapping my hand over her mouth. "My horse lost a shoe about an hour into the ride. I have this limp, you see, my lord. It prevents me from walking great distances in a short amount of time. Prince Erchirion was most accommodating, allowing me to ride on Goforth while he walked the distance we had already ridden."

My father's features softened at her words and it seems he had no ill thoughts about what we had done. "Well, Erchirion, you must be exhausted after walking a great distance leading two horses. No wonder you were late."

I nodded, relaxing slightly. Claire was feeding my father lies to cover up what had really happened in the outskirts of Ithilian. She had even used my title.

"My companion Merry was supposed to accompany us," she continued. "But his pony proved too tired from our travels the last three weeks to go on another ride."

And now, all trace of worry had gone from Imrahil's face. While he may be put out with me, he now had no reason to doubt Claire, for her easy lies gave him everything he wanted to hear. To him, she was a simple, dainty girl, who followed the rules. No doubt he had been worried, seeing as she was obviously so uncomfortable with Gondorian society. As uncomfortable as she was, though, she obviously understood how it worked.

"Do you often ride, my lady?" Elphir asked.

"As often as I can. Living so far away from my sisters, I am lucky to have been given a Rohirric steed that can easily travel the distance."

"Would it not be simpler to take up residence in Emyn Arnen or Aldburg?" Imrahil asked.

"I suppose it would be simpler, yes," she said, no longer awkwardly fingering her glass. "But then, I feel I would not be able to learn as much and see even less."

That answer seemed to satisfy my father. And conversation ceased for the moment, as food had arrived and was being placed at the simple dining table of my father's large accommodations. Claire was the epitome of politeness, declining chicken respectfully, but accepting a cut of salmon. So she did not eat land animals, but fish was acceptable. I wondered why that was.

So many things about her intrigued me. Amrothos had told me she would be temperamental, having shared a dance with her at Elessar's coronation as a spy for me. She was not of Middle-earth and her customs were incomprehensibly different. But I did not care. The heat that coursed through my body at the mere thought of her touch against my skin was not what I felt at the touch of a whore. This desire to make her understand seemed to take over my entire being and I cursed her affliction for the millionth time because it kept her from comprehending.

"Erchirion," Father snapped, bringing me from my pondering. I had been too engrossed at watching Claire's food enter her mouth, brushing against her lips.

"I'm sorry, Father. What was that?"

"When you and Lothiriel return to Dol Amroth, you should bring Lady Claire. Amrothos's wedding is not far off. What do you say, my dear?" he said, turning to Claire.

She smiled slightly, swallowing her food. "I wouldn't want to impose, my lord."

"Nonsense. You would be welcomed in Belfalas."

"Would Lothiriel's companion be allowed as well?" Elphir said.

I nearly dropped my fork. Lothiriel's eyes had widened so far, I feared they would fall from her face. Claire had turned an impressive shade of red. Imrahil, for all his princely demeanor, readily turned on his only daughter. "What does he speak of, Lothiriel?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out, allowing Elphir to continue. "It seems Lothiriel has taken an interest in one of Éomer's Riders. The son of a stable-hand, Erkenbrand says."

"Elphir," I muttered in warning.

"Oh, so you did know of it, brother?" he asked. "I should have known. But you should explain it to Father, then, for I am one who cannot comprehend matters of the heart, correct?"

Great Ulmo, my brother was a harsh man. Only now did I realize how much my earlier comments had hurt him, for he was not taking his anger out on only me, but Lothiriel as well.

"Lady Claire," my father said, obviously straining himself to keep his voice calm. "You must forgive my eldest son. He is rather outspoken on matters pertaining to his sister."

"I will escort the lady to her chambers," I said, rising.

"Actually," she muttered, placing her utensils down gently. "I knew about Lothiriel and the Rider. In all fairness to her, I would wish to stay so that she may not feel attacked."

My father sputtered, something he did not do often. Between the news of Lothiriel and Claire's revelation, he seemed to be deciding which the easier battle was. But Claire's determined stare swayed my father, and he turned back to Lothiriel. "Daughter, explain yourself."

My sister was a born diplomat and, though my father's words were harsh, she managed to compose herself, as she had been forced to do during the war. "I would hear Elphir's story first," she demanded.

My father turned to Elphir as his face grew ever more taxed. "I heard Erkenbrand and the guard, Rimbon his name is, talking in the barracks. I had gone to look for Erchirion, not to spy. Erkenbrand was chastising the young Rider for pursuing the advances of a princess. As there are presently only three princesses in the city, one of which is a new mother and the other a newlywed, I knew he spoke of Lothiriel."

"And that is all you heard?" Claire asked. "No wonder you are so confused, Prince Elphir."

Lothiriel's eyebrows shot up and my head jerked in her direction. What was she doing?

"My lady, what do you mean?" my father asked calmly.

"Well, only that Lothiriel sought out Rimbon to help her advance in her sword skills," Claire said. "Rachel is a rather influential person and her ideals from the war are well known. It is my understanding that the women who fought on Pelennor and at the Black Gate were considered valiant in their efforts, thanks to my sister. When Lothiriel and I made acquaintance last night, she spoke of how Prince Elphir had been teaching her the use of a sword for many years. When she worried she was no longer improving from his instruction, I encouraged her to seek out Rimbon. He is young, my lord, but I knew him to be a special pick of my brother-in-law's. But I see now, that customs in Gondor would have dictated your approval, and I apologize, Prince Imrahil."

I was absolutely stunned. Not only had she saved Lothiriel from my father's scorn, but she had also spoiled Elphir, for my father didn't know he had continued to instruct Lothiriel after he and Aunt Ivriniel strictly forbade it.

My father turned to Lothiriel, not nearly as angry as he had been before. "Is this true?" he asked.

"Rimbon and I sparred this morning. I feel as if I could learn much from him in the ways of the sword," she said, managing not to lie to my father as Claire had.

A short breath left my father's nostrils as his coloring returned. "You are right about one thing, Lady Claire," he said. "You should have asked my permission to refer my daughter to a Rider of Rohan. But as you share in that country's culture, I cannot chastise you for wanting to show their talents."

"This is not what I heard from the Riders gossiping," Elphir said.

"Why must you play the bully, brother?" Lothiriel muttered softly. "Erchirion knew what I was doing with the Rider. Is that not enough?"

I was not happy she had dragged me back into this, but her pleading eyes never failed to work on Elphir.

"Lothiriel, why would you not tell me?" Imrahil asked.

"I thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission. You've always been put off by me learning the use of the sword."

My sister and Claire were quite the pair. They had worked my father like putty. "While I am happy you have found something of valuable interest," Father muttered. "I am reluctant to let you stay in Emyn Arnen after keeping this from me."

"I planned to show you my new skills when I returned," she said. "Please, let me stay, Father. Erchie will be with me and obviously I have a friend in Claire."

"Erchirion, you still intend to stay?" he asked.

"If it is still amendable."

With a sigh, my father conceded. "Very well, Lothiriel. But you will not be sparring with the Rider unsupervised. I will be speaking to Lord Éomer on the subject."

Lothiriel looked nervous at the prospect, but I noticed Claire sneak her a wink. How much pull could one individual have when she didn't even live in the respective cities?

The rest of dinner was a quiet affair, Elphir looking put out by his foolish discovery. The one bright side was that Claire no longer seemed mad at me. And when she announced she was ready to leave, she did not begrudge me the chance to walk her to her chambers. I noticed my father's eyes dart to the clock to time us as she bid my family goodnight and safe travels. He would be timing how long it took me to return.

When the door was shut behind us, she let out a long, tired sigh.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Elphir is angry at me. It is why he invited you to dinner."

"Don't apologize for that," she said, pulling the ribbon from her hair and letting it fall down her shoulders. It still smelled of dust from the road, but I did not mind. In fact, the smell was intoxicating.

"You are right, I should apologize for earlier. It was kind of you to return my blanket. I should not have treated you that way in front of my brother."

"Erchirion," she said, stopping me. "I'm not angry anymore. I was, but I understand now why you treated me as you did. I forget that, in this country, I am not at liberty to just do as I please. I was upset at your coldness, but after meeting your family, I understand why you needed to project that message to your brother."

Her words stopped me in my tracks and she let out a small giggle. "You look stunned."

"I think that may be the first time you've ever apologized to me."

"Well, we've only known each other for two days and already we have so much to apologize for." She took my hand, lacing her fingers through it and continued down the hall. Her simple touch already had that warm feeling cascading through my stomach and I gritted my teeth as other parts of my body responded to her. I had already needed to settle my urges once today. Did she not understand the effect she had on me?

I continued to her room, but she tugged me down a different corridor. "Where are we going?" I asked. "My father is timing me, or didn't you notice?"

"I need to speak to Éomer before your father gets to him. I'll not have my lies ruined by his big mouth. I hate lying, I really do. But even worse is getting caught in the lie. I doubt your father will still want me to come to Amrothos's wedding if he catches me telling lies and covering for his daughter."

"Why did you lie?"

"I like your sister," she said simply. "And seeing as how far I needed to go to protect myself from your father, I knew he would not take kindly to the news of her and Rimbon."

We had reached the familiar door of her kin's chambers. "You should probably go back now, if your father is timing you," she said.

"One last thing, if you'll permit it," I whispered, bringing my free hand up to caress her soft skin. She understood what I wanted and placed her own free hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down to her level. She released my hand and brought it closer to its counterpart, adding more strength to the pull. Soon, our lips met for the third time, though this one was different than the previous. I felt her nails on my scalp, her fingers twisting through my hair with a force that should have been uncomfortable, but somehow raised my need to get closer to her. I placed my hands on her hips, bringing her against my body, not wanting to hide my arousal any longer. She needed to know how much I wanted her, for I feared that was the only way I could convince her to let me try and woo her. I noticed her pause in movement as she felt the bulge against her hip, but I didn't let her stop, and she seemed to understand what I was trying to convey. I felt her teeth bite my bottom lip and she pulled away for breath. No, I was not finished. I moved my mouth to her neck, placing an uncountable amount of kisses there, nibbling at her earlobe.

She let out a small moan as her hands moved from my hair to my shoulders. "If you don't stop, this is going to lead in a direction we'll both regret in the morning," she breathed in my ear.

She was correct, of course. Reluctantly, I pulled back, our faces still close together, causing our breaths to mix. "I hope you can understand my actions, now," I muttered, my voice coming out in a husky growl.

Her right hand moved from my shoulder to my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin that I kept beardless. "Actions do speak louder than words," she said. "Which is why you should get back to your father."

I reluctantly stepped back from her, grabbing her hand and placing another kiss there, as I had done when we first spoke yesterday.

How could so much happen in two simple days? What would twelve months do to us?

* * *

 _Please Review!_

 **gginsc** : _It's already been revealed at the end of_ When I Wake _that Claire had to leave. I'm sorry it's unavoidable :(_

 **Eothiriel** : _No Rachel and Eomer this chapter, sorry. But they will for sure be back in the next, promise ;)_


	27. Stigma

_Chapter 9: Stigma_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Rachel-

After an extremely uneventful day, Claire's knock on my door was welcome, even if it did wake the baby.

"What's he doing here?" Claire said over Flynn's wails.

"Kris and Faramir haven't had a night to themselves in two weeks. I'm babysitting. Tomorrow, I'm forcing her to interview nannies." I ran over to the cradle and pulled out my nephew, rocking him back into silence.

"He really hates loud noises," Claire whispered.

"I think all babies do," I muttered. "But I'm no expert."

"Where's Éomer?" she asked.

"He's with Aragorn. He came by and picked Éomer up over an hour ago. I haven't eaten. I hope he brings back food. Have you eaten?"

"Yes, actually," she said, an amused look crossing over her face. I noticed now that her lips were slightly swollen and her cheeks were flushed.

"Is that my dress?" I asked noticing that as well.

"I had dinner with Imrahil's family and nothing to wear. I stole it after I was invited," she said, a smile creeping onto her swollen lips.

"Dude, you spent the whole day with Erchirion and then you met his family?"

"I know," she exasperated, falling back onto the mattress. "It's too fast, isn't it?"

"It's not like you've got all that much time, anyway. Maybe it's best if it moves fast." But she didn't respond. Her feet came up off the floor and she hugged her legs, falling into fetal position. "Are you okay, Claire?" I asked, worried now.

"No, I'm terrified," she admitted, hugging even tighter. "He just kissed me outside your door, and I swear, I almost jumped him right there. You know I swore off casual sex two years ago."

"But would this really be casual?" I asked.

"In Middle-earth, unless there's a marriage, it's always casual."

"Well, you've got a point, there," I said, letting Flynn suck on my index finger.

"What did you say to him this morning?" she asked, her tone a little sharp.

"That he should apologize for his behavior the night before. Which he did, I'm guessing."

"He did, but that's not all you said. Spill it, Rachel."

I rolled my eyes. "I told him you were a vegetarian, that you liked to ride, and that you lived in Tuckborough. I also told him to go for it."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I figured you had."

"Are you mad?"

"I was. I'm not anymore."

"Because you want to jump him?"

"Shut up." And with that, she grabbed a pillow and stuffed it on her face. But she pulled it back almost immediately. "This pillow stinks," she said, her nose wrinkling. "Did you puke on it?"

"I didn't puke on it," I said indignantly. "But it is a bed, and I didn't get a honeymoon."

She jumped up, shuddering with revulsion and I did my best not to laugh and send Flynn wailing again. "I forgot you had been doing that. You can't do that in Aldburg?"

"We don't do much of anything together in Aldburg to be honest," I admitted, noticing Flynn's eyes droop. Maybe he would finally go to sleep.

"Frida mentioned that she thought you didn't like it there."

This was the first moment I had alone with Claire, and I desperately needed to vent to my best friend. "It's not Aldburg I don't like, I guess," I said, choosing my words carefully. "But in Edoras, I had Thèoden. Whenever he wasn't busy, he would keep me company. He taught me to speak and write Rohirric; well, as best as he could, anyway. I'm not the quickest learner when it comes to languages. Being away from him is hard, especially since it feels like he sent me away to Aldburg. Then there was the matter of giving up the First Eored. Aldburg is almost a day's ride from Edoras and Elfhelm couldn't have me commuting like Éomer did. Being a Rider was like part of my identity, you know. And I had to give it up when I married Éomer. Now that I'm in Aldburg, I'm supposed to run the household, but the old maid there won't let me do a thing. In theory, when Éomer is absent, I would be in charge, but there hasn't been a reason for him to leave. Not that I'd want to be in charge, anyway."

"You don't like the stigma," Claire said.

"What stigma?"

"You know, the little wife waiting at home for her husband, making sure the house is clean and his sandwiches are made."

"No, I don't like the stigma. And neither do you. Frankly, I don't understand how Kristen does it."

"Well, let's be honest. They were only married for six months when Kristen got pregnant, and it's not like Kristen had put down any roots before marrying Faramir, like you had."

"True."

"Plus, Faramir is pretty self-sufficient. I doubt Kristen ever has to make him a sandwich."

"You're not helping."

"Fine, you want the truth?" she snapped.

"Of course I want the truth."

"You have a hero complex," she said in a shout-whisper. "Ever since we got here, you've been pulling the string of a bow. You threw yourself into two battles that you really shouldn't have fought in anyway. You survived on of the toughest maladies in Middle-earth and you still went back to it, even after I told you I didn't want you to. Frankly, I couldn't be happier that you gave up being a Rider. You have a husband who loves you, a good home, and friends that care about you. You're not happy because you don't want to be happy, Rachel. I don't know how else to say it."

I sat in silence, rocking Flynn steadily, determined not to lose my cool. "Well, you sure can throw the verbal punch, can't you," I said.

She let out a sigh and sunk into a chair. "I'm sorry," she whispered, much calmer now. "It's just…you don't know how lucky you are."

Ah, that's why she had blown up. Flynn was practically asleep now, and I carried him over to the cradle, placing him gently inside before turning back to Claire. "You're right," I admitted. "I do have all those things, and I'm wrong to belittle them. But, Claire, being a Rider…it's the only thing I'm good at."

"That's not true and you know it. Éomer and Thèoden both see it. Why can't you?"

I was saved from answering as the door creaked open. "Is the babe asleep?" Éomer whispered, walking in.

"Barely," I said.

Claire stood from her chair. "Don't leave on my account," Éomer said, but she waved him off.

"I came to talk to you about something. I need to sleep."

"What is it?"

"If Imrahil asks about Lothiriel taking sword lessons from Rimbon tomorrow, you already knew about it and you're providing a supervisor."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking flustered.

"Elphir heard Erkenbrand and Rimbon gossiping about his sister and I had to cover. So now, she's taking sword lessons from Rimbon and nothing else as far as Imrahil and Elphir are concerned."

"You lied to Imrahil and expect me to do the same?"

"Please, Éomer. She's a good person just trying to have some fun. Any one of us would want the same if we were in her shoes."

With a sigh, Éomer nodded his head in agreement. "Thanks," Claire said before turning back to me. "I'll return your dress in the morning." And with that, she was gone.

Éomer did not look any less uncomfortable as she left. In fact, it seemed he was trying to avoid eye contact with me. "What's up?" I asked him, walking over and placing my hand on his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you," he whispered.

"Is this about your meal with Aragorn?"

He nodded. "Let's go out on the balcony. I don't want to wake Flynn." He grabbed my hand from his shoulder and led me out into the warm August air, closing the door behind him. I didn't worry about the baby. Flynn screamed so loud, I'd be able to hear him through the door. "Before I start," he said. "Can we agree that this will be a rational conversation and that whatever is spoken, it will not end in anger?"

"That's a hefty promise to make when I don't even know what's going on."

"Aragorn has received multiple threats from the east. Rhûn makes plans to invade Gondor."

"What's their reason?"

"The Easterlings have acquired a new leader who believes his country was not given a fair treaty to sign as one of the Reunited Kingdoms. Aragorn does not want Gondor to suffer any more wounds and is making plans to campaign in the east in the coming month."

"And Rohan will ride with him," I concluded.

"Aragorn and Théoden renewed the Oath of Eorl. Rohan will always answer Gondor's call."

"Arwen is pregnant," I said. "And he plans to leave his wife in Minas Tirith in that condition."

"Rachel, he must, rather than have Rhûn come to her."

I shook my head. Aragorn was a soldier, through and through, but beyond that, he was deeply in love with his wife. He would not be leaving her in her present condition unless things were serious, and I was starting to understand just how sever the situation was.

"What of Thèoden? I asked. "He cannot possibly ride to war with his health so poor."

"He will ride," Éomer said. "He will insist upon it. But I will do everything in my power to keep him from the battlefield, Rachel. I promise."

"And I'm supposed to sit in Aldburg while all this is happening, aren't I?"

His answer was the last thing I suspected. "Aragorn wants you to join the campaign." I noticed how his teeth were crushing together as he forced the words out.

"And you're not happy about that, are you?"

He let out a sharp breath through the nostrils. "He made a compelling argument. Certain women of Gondor have been allowed to train during the time of peace. Many in Rohan have continued training as well, a few even joining eoreds. Aragorn believes they will be strongest with a female captain. He values your advice and trusts you blindly."

"There's a 'but' in there, Éomer. I'm not an idiot. Out with it."

"Thèoden will disagree, as I do." He leaned against the railing of the balcony. "Rachel, other than me, there is no heir to the throne. And there is no one to lead Rohan in Thèoden's absence. As my wife, you are next in line to rule. I have no doubts Thèoden will swear you in as Under-king in his absence."

"Under-king?" I nearly shouted. I remembered what he said about making this a rational conversation, but this was not rational talk. "Éomer, I don't know how many times I could possibly say it. I don't want to be Queen of the Mark. What makes you think I would want to be Under-king?"

"And who would take the position in Thèoden's absence?" he challenged.

"Fingran," I said, naming Thèoden's head advisor.

"No," he said immediately. "Absolutely not. Are you out of your mind?"

"He knows what he's doing, Éomer. He wouldn't have his position if he didn't. I trust him and Rohan trusts him. He's the best choice."

"Need I remind you what happened the last time an advisor spoke on behalf of the king?" he snarled.

Grima was what happened, that rat bastard. Éomer knew how much I detested the snake and now, he had me in a stalemate. "Do you really think Fingran will abuse the position as Grima had?"

"I don't want to find out."

I ran my hand through my hair, clutching harshly at the roots. "We'll go back to Rohan," I decided. "I'll speak to Thèoden and we'll come up with a plan together."

"I fear his response will be the same as my own," Éomer muttered, calming his temper. "But if you insist, I would rather do that than argue the matter."

I let out a sigh, leaning against the balcony railing, wishing for a breeze in the still Gondor air. I felt Éomer's finger tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "I know I promised we would stay in Ithilian," he said. "But with this news, it is just not possible anymore, love."

"I know. And I'm not mad or disappointed. At least we got to spend some time together before this chaos breaks loose."

"We still have the rest of the month and the next, Rachel. We will not part with a cold bed or unspoken words. That is a promise I can keep."

 _Please Review!_


	28. Impending

_Chapter 10: Impending_

 _Third Age, 3020 August_

 _Ithilian, Gondor_

-Erchirion-

It took a considerable amount of steady breathing and forming a picture of Aunt Ivriniel in my mind to calm my arousal and re-enter my father's chambers modestly. Fortunately for me, my father was distracted from timing my return, as a new guest had entered his room. King Elessar was standing with my father and Elphir sat with his head in his hands. Lothiriel must have retired to her own chambers.

"Your majesty," I said, bowing to my king.

"Erchirion," he said with a nod of his head. "Forgive me for not waiting for your return, but in light of a conversation I have just had with Prince Éomer, I felt your father should be informed thusly."

"What is happening?"

"War, brother," Elphir muttered. "We are to return to war."

"Elphir," Imrahil snapped. "Forgive my eldest, your grace, but he has never been one to hold back words."

Elessar waved it off, motioning for me to take a seat. As I did, I could not help but stare at my king. The Dunedain fascinated me, for it was intriguing how a mortal man would simply have been gifted with extended life. Far up my own family tree, there was notable Elf blood, but the immortality of the creatures did not quite descend to my generation. This man was almost ninety years old, yet he looked scarcely older than Elphir. It was unnerving.

"I've received numerous reports these last few weeks," Elessar explained. "All of them are certain that the new ruler of Rhûn plans to discard the Treaty of the Reunited Kingdoms. His armies have been building up strong and an invasion of Gondor would be traumatic to our still-recovering people."

"King Elessar plans to invade Rhûn if they do not agree to settle the treaty once and for all," Imrahil explained. "But the latter is a most unlikely occurrence."

"You only found out about this now?" I asked my father.

"Elessar informed us of it while you were gone. I sent Lothiriel to bed."

I felt the sudden urge to do as Elphir was. Sink my head into my hands and do my best to keep a steady breath. I could not return to war. Nightmares still plagued me of the horrors I had witnessed, the loss of friends I had endured still panged at my heart when I saw their widows and families back in Dol Amroth.

"You declared this an age of peace," I muttered to Elessar.

"Unfortunately, not all want it," he said. "Erchirion, I do not wish to return to war, but if we do not attack the impending force, it will pull Gondor back into what it was sixteen months ago. A land where women and children could not be spared even the mere glances of war. We do not need it to return to our soil."

He was right. As much as I hated it, I could not deny it. "When?" I asked simply.

"October," he answered. "It will allow enough time to arrange troops in both Gondor and Rohan. Éomer has ensured me Thèoden's full support."

"We can return to Dol Amroth for Amrothos's wedding," Imrahil said. "I will inform Lothiriel in the morning that rule of Dol Amroth will once again transfer to her in our stead."

"She won't like that," Elphir muttered.

"Lothiriel knows her duty," Elessar said. "She is a fine leader and will serve us well from afar."

"I take it her holiday in Emyn Arnen will no longer commence?" I asked.

"Neither will yours," Imrahil said. "We must all return tomorrow."

* * *

-Claire-

Sharp, periodical taps on my window woke me late at night. I had no clock in the room, so I didn't know the time, but the moon was high and visible from my window. Probably midnight or one o'clock.

The tap sounded again and I wondered if a bird had landed on the window sill. But, as I neared the window, I saw it wasn't a bird. It was a pebble.

I grinned. It could only be Erchirion. I opened the window, looking down from my second floor height. It was not all that far. Had my leg not been injured, I probably could have jumped. "This is probably the oldest cliché in the book," I called down to him.

"Quiet, I don't want to wake the household."

"Is that why you didn't just come knock on my door?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, ignoring my question.

I noted the seriousness in his voice. There had to be a reason he was upset. Did his father decide he didn't like me after all? Had he figured out that I had lied? "Where can I meet you?"

"The barracks. No one is there at this hour."

I nodded, shutting the window and pulling on a robe and slippers, all provided by the faithful servants of Emyn Arnen. The hall was well-lit by candles and the high moon outside illuminated the streets that lead from the palace to the barracks. My cane on the cobblestones was the only sound.

The door of the barracks was where I met the only soul on the streets. A swan-knight guarded the entrance, but when he saw me, he motioned for me to approach and opened the door. "My lady," he muttered with a bow of his head.

Erchirion was inside, a few candles lit that served as his guide through the darkness as his sword swung at a hay-stuffed dummy. The frustration in his eyes that met my window was being released through his sword and into the straw figure. "Hey," I said, wondering what could have possibly happened to have brought out this anger.

He stopped his swinging, tossing his sword to the ground with a loud clang. He exited the ring, walking briskly towards me. "When did you last speak to Elessar?" he asked.

"Not long after I arrived. I asked him to inspect my leg. Why?"

The prince sighed, leaning against the pillar. "A few hours ago, he informed me and my kin that Gondor will ride to war come October."

"War?" I asked, utterly confused. "What war?"

"Rhûn. He has reports of the country's plans to attack Gondor in retribution for what their new ruler deems unfair compensation from the war."

"The Easterlings sided with Sauron. What do they expect?"

"Elessar's embarrassment, probably," he said, running his hand over his face.

The question hung in the air, but I did not dare ask it. Erchirion must have sensed my need for the answer, even though I refused to let the words escape my mouth. "My brothers and I will ride with Elessar." The words were a near whisper.

"You've known about this for a few hours and you're only telling me this now?"

"I had much to think about," he said, walking over to a bench and sitting down. "I wanted to get my thoughts straight before you were informed."

"And what are your thoughts?"

"While my affections for you have been alive for over a year, you have only known me for two days. And these two days have been…beyond any of my expectations. But I know not how long this campaign in Rhûn will last. I understand now, why you attempted to push me away, and I find myself in a similar position now. I cannot refuse my king's call to battle. And seeing as how your time in Middle-earth remains limited, I cannot ask you to wait for my return."

There were no other words than, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"My lady—," he started, rising from his bench, but I shut him up.

"Sit down," I growled, and he complied. "You cannot change your mind," I practically yelled, my voice reverberating around the empty room. "Not for that reason. That's not how this works. I gave you an easy way out, Erchirion, and you refused to take it. You can't back out because you feel it's best for me. You back out because it isn't best for you. That was your way out."

"My lady—,"

"Are you for real?" I yelled, my voice rising with every word. "My name is Claire! The least you could do is call me by my name!"

"Claire," he yelled with me, standing up and grabbing my shoulders. "Calm down. You must calm down."

I hadn't noticed I was shaking until his hands were on me. What was going on? This was what I wanted, right? Him to forget about me because it couldn't happen?

But that's not why I was upset.

"One year," I said, my voice shaking along with my body. "It's been one year of peace. I thought I had escaped it, but war found its way back to me."

"I know," he whispered, keeping me steady with his strong hands. "I find myself unable to enter Minas Tirith even in these times of peace for the memories seem to haunt the very walls and crevices. I do not wish to return, but it is not a choice for me to make. With my birthright comes certain responsibilities I cannot turn my back on."

"Rachel will try to go with Éomer. I almost lost her when she fought on Pelennor. I thought she was dead. I can't go through that again."

"Amrothos was supposed to have ridden with Faramir to Osgiliath," he said, walking me over to the bench and sitting me down. "When the Orcs on Pelennor catapulted the heads of their victims over Minas Tirith's walls, I thought one of them to be my little brother's. Rather than rage, like Elphir, I felt so much sadness. Luckily, Amrothos was held behind in need of stiches, but I did not know that. I would never return to war if it were my choice. I am only trained as a warrior. I have not the heart of one."

"I could never do it, even if I were obligated. Violence, grief, gore…death. It's all too much."

"I don't want you spending your days worrying if I'll return. We cannot predict Rhûn's reaction to the campaign, but I imagine it will be a fierce retaliation. I did not mean to insult you when I made the offer. I thought it's what you wanted."

"Yeah, that was before you insisted," I admitted. "You said the campaign's not until October. What will you do until then?"

"Father will refuse to postpone Amrothos's wedding. To do so would be to the people as if we were entering a time of strife. Elessar does not want that to happen. He wishes for things to continue as if it were normal. Kristen will lead from Emyn Arnen; Faramir, from Minas Tirith; Lothiriel from Dol Amroth. I imagine King Thèoden will position Lady Rachel on his seat in Edoras."

"Faramir gets to stay behind?" I asked.

"As Steward, he is obligated."

"Once again, Kristen doesn't have to worry about a thing," I muttered bitterly. "I guess you won't be staying in Ithilian, then?"

"There is much organizing that needs to take place. I will ride back to Dol Amroth in the morning, Lothiriel with me."

"What if…I came with you?"

He looked slightly stunned. "Claire, I—,"

"I know you offered me a way out," I said, forcing my voice steady. "But you're not the only one who's been thinking. I told you on the balcony two nights ago that I was unhappy. But these last two days, I have been happy. And since I've done little more than spend time with you, you're probably to blame. If I ride back to the Shire with Merry, it won't stop me from worrying about you, regardless. You've put me in a position that makes that impossible."

"You want to follow me to Dol Amroth?"

"Only if you still want me to. I mean, your father insisted it wouldn't be an imposition. He even invited me to the wedding."

"He did, didn't he?" Erchirion muttered, the normal lightheartedness threatening to escape as I eased the tension.

"We still have about a month before you leave for the east. I know you'll be busy, but there will still be time, I think."

"Your offer makes me the happiest man in all of Arda," he said, grabbing my left hand between both his own. "But I must ask one last time if you are sure."

"I think I have a good grasp on the concept of limited time. I'm very sure, Erchirion."

He didn't ask for permission this time as we kissed yet again. And, yet again, it was different. The first, on the balcony, had been hesitant and sweet. Second, in the Ithilian wild, forceful and proving. Third, after dinner with his family, passionate and heated. Now, it was lighter than a feather, and more gentle than I ever thought a kiss could be. And it was over in mere seconds, but it was enough.

"You should return to your room," he whispered. "We will depart rather early and I would hate for you to grow weary on the road."

I grinned, finding his concern rather adorable. "I've traveled more of Middle-earth in a year than you ever have in your life. I would hate for you to grow weary on the road, prince."

He chuckled, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. "The guard outside is named Solumn. He is a good friend of mine. He can tail you back to your room."

"We're not at war yet. I think I can manage myself."

"Allow it, please. If only for my peace of mind," he begged.

I rolled my eyes, but conceded anyway.

* * *

 _Happy 1 Year Anniversary to When I Wake! Gods, I can't believe I've been working on this for a year now...how time flies_

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	29. Duty

Chapter 11: Duty

Third Age 3020, August 20

Edoras, Rohan

-Rachel-

The ride back to Rohan was as quick as Éomer could possibly push the horses. Erkenbrand and Rimbon were ready to leave as soon as Éomer gave the order.

Claire was planning on following Erchirion to Dol Amroth for Amrothos's wedding, but she promised when Erchirion and his brothers left for Rhûn, she would make her way to Rohan, should I decide I would accept the position of Under-king, which I was still reluctant to do.

Merry decided, since he had no interest in Dol Amroth, to join my party on our trip back to Rohan. He would stay in Edoras for a few days before departing back to the Shire. Éomer agreed to send a small party of Riders to accompany him to Rivendell so that Lord Elrond could be informed of the upcoming sieges, though the old Elf-lord would have nothing to do with the battle, and likely already knew of its happenings from his daughter.

When we took on the gates of Edoras, the people were surprised to see us. We had written Thèoden that we would be in Ithilian, of course, but the villagers would think us in Aldburg still. Would they panic that we were here, or would they assume we were just visiting? It was probably Rimbon and Erkenbrand that put them off. If we were simply visiting, we would not have brought a guard in such circumstances.

Thèoden was in Meduseld to greet us and my hug must have been half-hearted, for he immediately knew something was wrong.

Éomer finished explaining, a somber look on his face, waiting for his king's reaction. "Éomer, my lad, we will answer Aragorn's call. My arm is not as strong as it once was, but I need not aid him from the battlefield. I can serve purpose with my presence."

"And what of Edoras in your absence?" Éomer muttered.

"I would think that choice is rather clear, nephew," the king said, turning to me.

"My lord," I said, doing my best to keep my voice neutral. "Aragorn has requested that I lead an eored of women as a captain. With your permission, as my king."

"Absolutely not," Thèoden said shortly. "Aragorn is wise in the ways of battle, and I do not argue that the newly trained women should ride to the east with us, but you will not be their captain, my niece. You will lead them instead as Under-king."

"I would think, as you said, that Aragorn knows what is best for the battlefield. You have a number of willing councilmen to serve this position. I should follow you to Rhûn."

"Éomer," Thèoden muttered, surprisingly calm. "I wish to speak with your wife alone for a moment."

My husband nodded, his composure hard as a rock. "Explain, please, this incessant need you have to return to a war," Thèoden asked after Éomer left. "For I find it baffling how someone could crave the horror of war rather than the safety of Edoras's walls."

"Forgive me, my lord, but are you asking me this as your former pick for Third Marshal or as the woman married to your nephew and heir?"

"I am asking you this as a human being," he said simply.

With a huff, I explained to my king, as I had tried to explain to Éomer the entire trip back here. "I do not crave war. It is a great fear in my mind to return to a setting where my friends die around me and my arrows take the lives of others. But the fear of ruling a kingdom that I was not born to in your absence triumphs all other fears. At least I know how to be in a war. No surprises can await me there."

"You fear the throne. I have known this for quite some time. It is why I sent you and Éomer to Aldburg. Had I thought you ready for the task, I would have reassigned Éomer and Elfhelm their positions and had you both live with me in the Golden Hall. But you had to gain some experience."

"I've lived in Aldburg for nearly three months. It has taught me nothing of how to rule. Only how to roam the halls of a fortress like an unwanted poltergeist."

"What is this nonsense you speak of?" he demanded.

"Uncle, I love Éomer with all my heart. But after what I went through in Rivendell, I find that I am not as strong as you think I am. How can I keep an entire country alive when I can't even keep two children?"

He held up a hand, silencing me. "Speak no more of this, child. I see I cannot convince you through encouragement, for you sink every reassurance like a ship. So I will put it in terms you will understand. As a Rider of Rohan, you took a vow to protect this country in no uncertain terms. You follow the commands of your Marshal, even if you do not want to do as he says or you do not agree.

"You, child, married my nephew, the heir to the throne of Rohan. And, like being a Rider, it comes with stipulations you may or may not agree with. As his wife and a Lady of Rohan, you now have different duties that are no less significant nor less important. You run the house, you give him an heir, and you give him a warm bed to come home from after the war. That is your duty now."

"And what is his duty, as a husband?" I nearly yelled, not caring that he was the king.

Fortunately, he didn't get upset. "Rachel, the fact that you do not hail from these lands was apparent the moment you stopped my sword from swinging upon Grima's head on the steps of this very Hall. But now I fear I must be frank with you. You are here now. You have married into the land and been adopted into it. Your ways have penetrated our walls, I'll admit, but they will not change this." His eyes flashed menacingly now. "Grow up, Rachel. It is time I stopped calling you 'child'. Do your duty as the wife of the heir. Wait in Meduseld and send your council through correspondence. When Éomer returns, do your duty as a wife, whether that be in the bed or in the mere comfort of presence."

His words were painful and harsh. But as much as I wanted to run out of this room screaming, he had a point. I wasn't in America, where I could have the career I wanted and a husband simultaneously. It just didn't work like that. I may have had wives that fought alongside me during the war, but they were all mothers, intent on taking the places of their young sons. Or they were unmarried daughters and sisters. In fact, none of the women currently serving in eoreds were married. I had never realized until now.

After a long minute of silence, Thèoden grew impatient. "I seemed to have enlightened you."

I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so I did my best to act humble to the cause. "I will accept the position of Under-king when your majesty departs for the east."

He nodded tersely. "I am glad you will serve this position."

He waved me towards the door. "We will talk in the morning of how best to approach your new title with the people," he whispered into my ear, making me feel ever more forced to do what I didn't want to do.

Éomer was right outside, waiting for me. "What did you decide?" he asked immediately.

"I'm staying," I muttered, ignoring the wave of relief that coursed over his body. He grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze, but I didn't squeeze back. I agreed to this arrangement half-heartedly. I was going to make that very clear.

Éomer tried to keep my hand as we walked to our bedroom in Edoras, but I snatched it out of his grip. "What is the matter?" he begged.

"Do the math. It's not that hard to figure out," I grumbled.

He let out a deep sigh. "I know you do not think this is best, but I assure you, I think it's just what you need to coax you into your future role as Queen."

"That's not why I'm mad, Éomer."

"Then explain it to me, please, so that I might apologize for it."

We had reached the room and I threw open the door, not allowing him to hold it open for me. Inside, our marriage bed sat in the middle of the room. It wasn't lavish. Very few things in Rohan were. The king's quarters, which I had seen on many occasions when nursing Thèoden back to health all those months ago, were one of those exceptions. Our room was a closet in comparison, but I didn't complain. I didn't want to move there, anyway.

Our saddle bags had been delivered to the room and I marched over to the ones I knew to be mine, digging through the nearest for my nightclothes.

"Are you going to answer me?" Éomer said, shutting the door behind him.

I threw the saddlebag back on the ground and turned sharply towards my husband. "For the first time in a long time, Éomer, I have realized that I am not Rohirric, no matter how hard I try to pretend I am."

"What did Thèoden say to you?" he demanded.

"Nothing more than the truth. That I can no longer live by the customs of my previous life. Not to mention the thing I feared most was finally confirmed. Marrying you was an ultimatum that no one prepared me for."

He was suddenly stiff and I nearly slapped a hand over my own mouth. Damn foot-in-mouth disease. Why could I not control it when it was important? "That came out wrong," I muttered after an awkward moment of silence.

"You never say anything you don't mean," Éomer said, his voice like ice. "I had not realized you felt our marriage was the poor choice of an ultimatum."

"I told you. That came out wrong. And I never said it was a poor choice."

He slumped over to the vanity, sitting down on its chair. There was a long moment where only my breathing could be heard. "Do you regret our marriage?" he whispered.

"No!" I practically yelled, going over to him and sitting on my knees so my chin reached his own. "I never said that, Éomer. The thought never crossed my mind that marrying you wasn't the right choice for me."

"Then what did Thèoden say to upset you, if it was not about me nor our marriage?"

I fell onto my butt, leaning my back against the vanity. "I need to explain something to you. About where I come from, because it's important to understand how my thoughts work in this situation. Then, I can only hope it will make more sense to you."

"Then explain."

"Middle-earth was a story written about fifty years before I was even born. And the time the author of the stories lived was so different from the time I had. So much so that his books were seen as somewhat progressive. In the tale I know, Éowyn slayed the Witch-king, but you already knew this. When the stories were written, it would have seemed as odd to its readers, as it would to you had you never met me.

"But where I come from, it's seen as…rather normal. Women fight in armies. Married women, with children and lives, and it's no longer seen as abnormal. It isn't strange for men to stay home and raise the children so that women can have careers. Nor is the opposite strange. Women, including myself, have fought for years for equality, whether that be in salaries, jobs, marriage, you name it. It's nowhere near equal, but it's on its way.

"Which is why I feel like I'm moving backwards instead of forwards, I guess. I worked so hard for women to be able to live any kind of life they want, but Thèoden tells me my true place is still to wait for you to come home at the end of the day. To let you live your life while I simply sit around letting mine pass me by."

He was extremely still, and he listened closely to my words. "I knew you came from a world of equality, but I suppose I never thought about what that really meant to you, being here."

I leaned my forehead into his knees, letting out a sigh. "I'm not upset that I have to stay in Edoras as Under-king. A small part of me figured that that would be my fate, regardless of any offer Aragorn made. I'm mad that Thèoden does not see me as anything more than the person who warms your bed. I used to be a prized Rider. He used to be proud of me."

Éomer's hands grasped either side of my face, pulling it up to look at his own. "You cannot think Thèoden is not proud of you, love. You saved his life, united his kingdom, protected his lands furiously, and won the heart of his only nephew. I refuse to believe that he is not honored to call you his niece. And even if he is, then he is a fool, for I could not be more proud to call you my wife, dear Bowmaiden."

I placed my hands on top of his wrists, letting his thumbs stroke my cheekbones. "How do you do that?"

"Do what, love?"

I grinned. "Always say the perfect thing to bring me out of my moments of distress?"

"It's not that I try to find the right words," he explained. "I simply say what comes to mind and pray that it helps. And it isn't always the right thing, believe me."

"Well, it was now," I whispered, pulling myself back onto my knees and leaning into a kiss. Éomer's hands worked down to my waist and pulled me from the floor and onto his lap, making it easier for me to reach over his back and pull out the band that held his hair in a ponytail, sinking my fingers into it when it was freed. His own hands were as busy as my own, working to undo the laces on the back of my tunic. I was about to break away to protest (while our make-up sex was usually great, we were both too dirty from the trip to crawl into the clean sheets on the bed) when a knock sounded on the door.

Éomer broke away, looking annoyed. "Who is it?" he called.

"Aaryn," a soft, female voice called from behind the door. "Thèoden King requested a servant to draw a baths for Lord Éomer and Lady Rachel."

Éomer still looked annoyed, but this was just what the doctor ordered for me. I pecked his nose with a kiss and opened the door. A short servant girl stood on the other side, the tools to create a warm bath in her hands. "Come in," I said, gesturing towards the smaller room inside that held the tub. The girl gave a small bow and went to work.

But when the girl retreated, I realized how familiar she looked, but I couldn't place her at all. "Your name is Aaryn?" I asked, following her to the washroom.

"Aye, milady."

"How long have you worked in Meduseld?"

"This last month, milady. Not long after your marriage ceremony, actually."

My wedding. That's it! "You helped make my wedding dress."

"My mother is the seamstress here in Edoras, milady. Hilda commissioned your dress from her shop."

"Well, then I must thank you, and your mother."

"You have already done so, milady. There is no need to do so again."

"But is was perfect, Aaryn. I doubt my gratitude could extend through mere words, besides the fact that they were spoken more than once."

She finished pumping the water and was now adding hot rocks to the bottom of the tub and filling a pot to be placed over the fire. "Well, that is very kind of you, milady."

I noticed Éomer sitting back in the vanity chair, his eyebrow raised at me questioningly. And suddenly, an idea came to me. "Aaryn, does your mother still have my measurements?"

"Of course, milady. Hilda frequently requested gowns and riding gear for you to be made at the shop."

"Really?" I muttered. "Hilda always told me she had made the garments herself."

Aaryn chuckled, walking the pot over to the fire. "I've no doubt she did. I believe she once told my mother you would never wear any gowns unless she guilted you into it."

I rolled my eyes. "And if she labored over them for hours then I felt obligated to wear her hard work. And here I thought she was just a clever seamstress."

Aaryn chuckled. "I'm afraid it was simply my mother and I." She walked back over to the tub and started pulling the rocks out with tongs. "Why do you wonder about your measurements, milady?"

"Only that my sister stole my favorite dress in Ithilian and I will need a replacement. Could your mother have it ready by the end of the month?"

"Depends on the grandness of the dress. Your wedding gown, for example, took three weeks, but the embroidery was complicated."

"No embroidery, then. I just want a simple, but elegant gown in Rohirric green. I would trust your mother's judgement on any flourishes added, so long as it is completed by the approved date."

"Of course, milady. I can bring her to Meduseld tomorrow so you may talk it over with her. Only if it suits you, of course."

"Tomorrow is perfect, Aaryn. I really appreciate this."

She had finished with her work and bowed with a smile on her face. "Anything for the Bowmaiden of Rohan." She turned to Éomer, giving another bow. "I can return in an hour to draw a second bath for you, milord."

"No need," he said, waving her off. "I'm rather resourceful in finding ways of getting clean."

I half expected her to question him or scoff at him, if she understood his intention of getting into the bath with me, but the girl said nothing and simply left with a bow.

"What is it?" he asked after she closed the door. "You have a dazed look in your eye. And why request a new dress? You hate them."

"I don't hate them unless they have laces. Besides, I'll need something to wear if I'm to be crowned Under-king and Claire stole my best dress. And as for the dazed look, I like that girl. She's…I don't know, but I'm a good judge of character and I like her."

He chuckled, pulling us back into the washroom. "Perhaps you can judge her character while you remove your clothes? Or I could do it for you?"

I laughed, giving him a slight push before reaching behind me to undo my tunic and follow him into the tub.

* * *

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	30. Decisions

_Chapter 12: Decisions_

 _Third Age 2030, August_

 _Minas Tirith, Gondor_

-Claire-

When I came down to the stables early the next morning, it was apparent that Erchirion did not actually expect me to follow through with my promise to go with him to Dol Amroth. I'll admit, I was hesitant when I woke up this morning. I was pissed last night that he would walk away as soon as things got tough for him, but honestly, I was pleased that he now understood what I had been trying to tell him. The fact that we were both entirely aware of the stipulations made the prospect of this turning into a thing was…appealing.

Lothiriel was ecstatic that I was accompanying her family and Aragorn, even if she was a little downcast with the news of the war. "It will be wonderful to have someone in the city other than Aranel and Beriana when my brothers ride to war."

"Well, I don't know how long I'll be staying. I promised my sister I would ride to Rohan if she ends up taking the position of Under-king."

"I wonder why Rohan does not have a steward. It would be more practical, don't you think?"

"Rohan is not Gondor. Their queens are sworn in as Under-king when they're crowned, traditionally. Since Rohan has no queen, the position falls to the heir's wife. The system has worked for them for hundreds of years."

"You are quick to jump to their aid," she noted.

"At dinner last night, your father noted it would be more practical for me to live in Rohan or Gondor, rather than the Shire or Bree. The truth is, if I were a practical person, I would most likely choose Rohan. No offense."

She chuckled. "Why would I take offense to that? I do live in a rather formal country. Sometimes it is unfortunate. Like when you meet a nice Rider and my situation prevents me from ever seeing him again."

"You don't know that. You may still meet again."

"You are a romantic, like my brother, Claire. But it is not realistic. I am the highest female noble of Gondor who is unwed in the country. If I marry, it will be for realistic reasons, not love."

"And what of Erchirion?" I countered. "Or Amrothos and Elphir for that matter?"

"Father already made a mistake with Elphir. He and Beriana could not stand each other for the first few years of their marriage. Things have been better for them since the end of the war and they have found contentment, but they do not love each other. My father knows this and I know it causes him distress."

"And what makes you think he would force you into the same situation?"

"Oh, he would never, I know that. But after Amrothos and Aranel…well, I would not want to put him through this again."

"I'm still confused by all this. He wants Amrothos to marry for love, but dislikes the idea of his son marrying the daughter of a baker."

"It is not my father who is distraught, Claire. It is that the people do not like it when one rises so easily in class. They see it as…rather like cheating, I suppose."

"Did your father object to Kristen? She is not of noble birth."

"Well, that is a bit more complicated. My father is only Faramir's uncle and Faramir does not reside in Dol Amroth. And I know you insist that you and your sisters are not noble, but your names are known all throughout Gondor. The fact that you saved my cousin's life gives you valor in the eyes of every Gondorian."

"Really?" I asked. I had never thought about it like that.

"King Elessar would not choose you as a friend if you did not hold trust and dignity. That is what is looked for in Gondorian nobility. Your reputation alone gives you a higher status."

"Well, that doesn't make much sense to me, but thank you all the same," I said, wanting to leave the topic.

But Lothiriel clearly wasn't done. "Has my brother decided to court you?"

I sighed, giving Erchirion's back a short glace. He was a few paces ahead of us with Elphir. "We haven't decided anything yet. For me it's complicated and I do not wish to drag him into my problems. But he says he doesn't care and has made it difficult for me to turn him away."

She gave a small giggle. "Erchie has always been a bit different. When he was thirteen, Amrothos tells me he held a great interest for one of the palace servants that worked for our mother. She was older than him, of course, and he was young and knew not what love was. But Amrothos says that there has never been another woman other than her to catch his eye. That is, until he met you."

"Not even women for hire?" I wasn't fond of the fact that men of Middle-earth could so easily pay for sex. And not only that, but it was expected of them. But I had inevitably accepted it as a fact of life here.

"Well, I wouldn't know much about that. I'm their little sister and men will only gossip so much about those things," she said.

"I'm sorry. These are things I should ask him, not his sister."

"You would ask him of such things?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Well, maybe not right now, but if things continue in the direction they're heading, why wouldn't I ask him?"

"Beriana was terrified to ask Elphir of his exploits. For good reason, too. I may not be able to tell you of Erchie and Amrothos, but Elphir is another story. I remember, when I was very young, seeing his mistresses sneak out of his rooms late at night. It was widely speculated that my father arranged Elphir's marriage so that he would stop those ways."

My jaw almost dropped, but I held it in place. "I didn't know that."

"Well, I didn't expect you too."

Elphir's comments at dinner last night were suddenly making much more sense. It was strange, getting to know this family after only meeting them two days ago. Well, I had danced with Amrothos once, but I hadn't known who he was at the time. Rachel was the expert on Middle-earth. She knew who everybody was and when things were going to happen. After I returned from Rivendell to Aragorn's coronation, I made Rachel write down everything that could possibly be important in the future. That's how I knew about Lothiriel and Éomer, otherwise, I'd be as clueless as Kristen. Rachel read the appendices. I read the story part.

I wanted to tell Lothiriel about her original part in the story. The more I got to know her, the more the guilt of knowing her fate weighed on my shoulders. But if I did, Rachel—and probably Éomer, for that matter—would skin me.

* * *

I had not returned to Minas Tirith since Aragorn's coronation. We rode up to the city, perched ever so gracefully into the side of the eastern end of the Ered Nimrais Mountains. Dol Amroth was approximately the same distance to Minas Tirith as Edoras was, but the ride was easier. And with the opening of the Dimholt Road, the ride to Edoras was shortened exponentially, so Rachel need not wait a whole week for my arrival after everyone left for Rhûn.

Our arrival in the city made my heart thud with nervousness. I didn't want to return to the hall where I had saved Faramir's life. I didn't want to visit the Healing Houses where Rachel had nearly met death. I didn't want to see a view of the Pelennor Fields which we road across now. I didn't want to sit upon the apex where I waited for my new friends to return from the Black Gate at the Morannon.

Aragorn must have sensed my distress, for he slowed Brego, coming beside me and reaching his hand over to grasp my own. "Do not fear what the past holds, my friend. There is nothing to dread in the White City, I promise."

"I know that. It doesn't stop the memories, though."

"I know what you mean, but Minas Tirith isn't as it once was. Arwen and I have done everything in our power to rid it of its former gloom." I didn't answer, so he continued. "Arwen will be happy to see you. I know she misses you fiercely. I think, before we found out of her pregnancy, that she had been planning a trip to Imaldris with the intention to track you down in the Shire."

I smiled. "I would have liked that. The looks on the Hobbits' faces alone would make it worth it."

Aragorn laughed as we passed into the gate of the city. We rode to the apex and I did my best to ignore the stabs of memories that poked around every corner of this city. Arrod was taken by some boy and my party and I were lead into the Hall of Kings by Aragorn.

It was as cold as it was on the day fire raged through it. Aragorn's wedding and coronation had both been on the apex and I had no need to enter the Great Hall on those occasions. Erchirion was near me now, my footsteps falling behind and slowing with the steady beat of my memories, all coming back to me with these talks of war in the east and my friends leaving once again. I still didn't know if Rachel would ride with them, for she and Éomer wished to consult Thèoden King.

Erchirion's hand embraced my own, the entire party ahead of us, save Solumn, his guardsman, who walked in the rear. His face too, held a look of distress that surely matched my own. But his hand in mine was steady and comforting as we followed Aragorn through the doors to his house.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Aragorn said, motioning to the furniture circling the sitting room. "I'll send for food. Princess Lothiriel, perhaps you would like to be shown to your chambers?"

"Yes, please, your grace," she said.

It was so weird, seeing Aragorn be so formal. Was he not friends with this family? Erchirion's hand fell from my own as Imrahil turned toward us. "Would you not offer the same to Lady Claire, your grace," he said.

"I doubt Claire will want to be gone when Arwen comes down, Imrahil," Aragorn said.

"King Elessar is right, my lord," I said. "It has been ages since I've seen the Queen, and even longer since we've had a proper conversation."

"I forgot you mentioned you were friends," Imrahil said, sitting down on the nearest sofa.

"That we are, Prince Imrahil," a familiar voice said from the doorway. Imrahil nearly jumped at the entrance of Arwen as she came into the room. Of course she hadn't aged a day, but there was still something different about her. You could not tell she was pregnant, for it was early and she had not started to show, but she seemed to be (and I know this is absurdly cliché) glowing.

"Claire, it is good to see you," she said, striding over to me and pulling me into a tight hug.

"Likewise," I said as she pulled back, taking my hands into her's. "I must admit, I've missed you, Arwen."

She let out a tinkle of laughter. "I would be disappointed if you hadn't." Her eyebrows crinkled as she stared into my face, her blue eyes solid as sapphires. "There is something different about you."

"I could say the same to you," I countered, taking in her sparkling appearance. "Pregnancy suits you."

"Istel told you then, did he?"

I laughed at her expression. "I hadn't realized it was a secret, though I doubt he could contain his joy if he tried."

Aragorn had walked over to the two of us and placed a hand on Arwen's shoulder. "I fear Claire is right, my love."

Arwen laughed again and exchanged pleasantries with Imrahil and his family, her eyes lingering on Erchirion before darting back to me with a knowing look. Damn her Elvish intuition!

She invited me to dine in her chambers. As I doubted I'd be free of Imrahil and his family anytime soon, I obliged. I also had a desire to spend time with her on my own, for I hadn't had that luxury since my stay in Rivendell before the coronation.

"So, my young friend, you have finally caught the eye of a young gentleman."

"You assume too much," I muttered, spooning soup into a bowl.

"It is not assumption if I know it to be truth."

"It remains assumption until you're told by the parties in question."

"Well then, you might as well tell me."

I slumped back in my chair. "This is all anyone wants to talk about with me anymore."

Her lips pursed as she took in my posture. "I did not mean to distress you further. I only wanted to wish you joy if you have finally found someone you care for."

"What do you mean, 'finally'?"

"Only that your sisters have both found love, yet you remain lacking in it."

"Why is that such a bad thing?" I countered. "Why do I have to have a boyfriend to be happy? Can't I just be happy on my own?"

"But you're not," she said, leaning forward. "And not for lack of trying, either. Claire, I don't mean to say that this is the only way for you to be happy, but Istel tells me your mood is lighter when he is around. I watched you two exchange glances in the other room. You ride with his family for his brother's wedding. If he makes you happy, then why do you deny anything?"

"Because I have to sail to Aman in a year," I hissed, pissed that I had to bring this up, yet again. "Why can no one understand that it's just not fair to either of us?"

"Your wound is unfair," she admitted. "By all accounts, it is most unfair. But to deny yourself happiness while it is still attainable? I do not understand the reasoning."

"I don't want to hurt him," I muttered.

"He is a man. A man who can live with the decisions he makes. Let him make his bed and lay in it, Claire. That is my advice to you. Do not feel guilt any longer. Simply let him love you, and come to love him yourself."

"Who said anything about love?"

She grinned, a mischievous look on her face. "His eyes, when he looks at you, say it all."

* * *

 _So, unfortunately, the time is fast approaching for me to return to camp (June 2). This means I will be with limited internet access for two months. When I do get internet, it's at a really slow desktop with no MS Word. Also, since I work 25 hours of the day, there's virtually no time to write. Next Sunday will be the last update until August. But it's gonna be okay. We went through this with_ When I Wake _, and we will survive it again!_

 _Please don't hate me._

 _Please Review!_


	31. Reluctance

_Chapter 13: Reluctance_

 _Third Age 2030, Late August_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Rachel-

Éomer's head severed from his shoulders. Thèoden, gray skinned and white-eyed with death. Elfhelm and his armor blood-soaked. Eothain's children and wife crying over his body…

"Wake up, love," said the voice that always brought me back. "It's almost dawn. You need not sleep any longer."

My eyes shot open, looking into the face of my husband, whose green eyes looked over me with worry. I hated how I woke up to that look every morning since we got back. The Black Breath showed me visions of my friends dying in Rhûn, and my bow, always slightly out of reach.

"It's almost dawn?" I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Éomer and I had stayed in Edoras so that I could shadow Thèoden during his working hours as king. He had broken the news to his advisors a week ago, three days after Éomer and I had returned from Ithilian. Fingran, the head advisor, had taken the news better than I thought he would, all things considering. If I hadn't married Éomer, he would have the job as Under-king, whether Éomer liked it or not. Others, such as my current resistor, Hemonbold, were very much against it. But in the end, Thèoden's word was law.

I rose from the bed and poured fresh water into a basin and washed my face. "So, what will you be doing today?" Éomer asked from the bed.

"I have to go over the royal finances with Thèoden and Dorwine. And we know how much I love math, so I'm absolutely ecstatic."

"You need not be sarcastic."

"It's the only way I'll enjoy myself," I said, walking to the wardrobe and selecting a simple navy blue shirt and brown pants that matched my boots.

"Perhaps you could enjoy yourself at the quarterly market instead?" Éomer suggested, walking up behind me and placing his hands on either of my shoulders, massaging the knots that had been increasing there over the last week.

"I wish I could, but I can't," I said, nearly moaning as his left thumb hit a rather large kink. "I've got to take in as much as I can, and skipping out won't earn me any favor with the advisors. Hemonbold is badmouthing me enough already. I don't want to give him anything else to bitch about."

"You are taking this far better than I thought you would, all things considering," Éomer muttered.

"Yeah, and I need as many people on my side as possible. I can't even begin to think about how the people will take this. If they're anything like Hemonbold, you and Thèoden may come back to a country in ruins."

"Do not exaggerate. You are learning well and taking in so much. Perhaps I'll be taking lessons from you when I take the throne."

"See, you think that's funny, but it's really not."

He laughed, placing a kiss on the back of my neck. "I'm going to meet Elfhelm and then head to the market. Perhaps Thèoden will release you early from your duties. Market Day is always a lax one in Edoras."

"Maybe, but don't get your hopes up."

* * *

I managed to escape Dorwine's grasp long enough to get some lunch at midday. I would have had it called up to my room, but I was honestly sick of the upstairs. Plus, it was Market Day, and there weren't many servants in the Hall presently.

"Milady Rachel," Aaryn said, with a small bow as I entered the kitchens.

"No need for that," I said, waving her off. "I came to grab some lunch. Is Huniel at the markets?"

"She is, milady. But I can fix you some dry things, if you wish."

"If it's not too much trouble," I said, sitting down at the long table where the servants normally dined.

As Aaryn worked, I thought of Hilda and her request for retirement. The move to Aldburg had been taxing on the old woman, and I hadn't the heart to summon her to Edoras. With her help, I had become rather lazy, but I also knew I needed a replacement, for the old woman would never retire unless I got one she found suitable. "How old are you Aaryn, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Twenty-three, milady."

"Well, fancy us being the same age."

"I only just turned two weeks ago."

"Well, I turned in July, so you're not that far behind me."

"May I ask why you're interested, milady?" she asked, coming from a pantry with bread and fruit, the former which she started slicing and buttering.

"Vanya praises you to the highest quality, even though you've only been working at Meduseld just under three months."

"Mistress Vanya is always mighty in complements," she said, naming Meduseld's head maid.

"Aaryn, have you ever worked as a Lady's maid before?"

"Can't say that I have, milady, though I doubt it too difficult to learn."

"It's really not, and I can assure you, I'm not that demanding."

Her hands stopped slicing bread and her head turned up to mine. "Excuse me, milady. I hate to assume anything, but it sounds as if you are offering me a job."

"I am. I'm going to be pretty busy in the coming months. No doubt I'll need some help and someone to confide in when things get difficult."

"But, you live in Aldburg, milady. I can't move there with you."

"Hilda is in Aldburg, you need not. I only ask for your services when I'm in Edoras, and I won't be leaving for some time."

"But, why would you be staying in Edoras? Won't Lord Éomer want you home?"

I turned to face her, needing to see the look in her eyes when I had finished my piece. "Aaryn, I'm going to tell you a secret that you mustn't utter to anyone. But only if you desire the job of my Lady's maid."

"I'll not deny, to wait on the Bowmaiden would be honorable, milady. Would Mistress Vanya find it amenable, I would certainly accept."

"Aaryn, come the first of October, Thèoden King and my husband, along with the three eoreds, will ride to war in the eastern country of Rhûn. In our king's absence, I will take the throne as Under-king, as he commands it of me."

"Why has this not been announced?"

"Thèoden will tell the village the first of September, along with swearing me in as Under-king. But when I take this position, it will be with reluctance. No doubt I'll need a friend and confidante in the walls of the Golden Hall. I want that to be you."

"That's why you wanted my mother to make you a dress, isn't it? For when the announcement is made."

"Yes."

"But, I don't understand, milady. Why do you take the position with reluctance? It is your own to take by right of marriage."

"I would rather be with them on the campaign. And I fear for my abilities to rule."

"But, I saw you at Helm's Deep, milady. I had no reason to fight, so I did not join your teachings, but I witnessed them from the sidelines. You are a fine leader. Rohan would welcome you to the throne, even if it is premature."

"You are kind to say that, but it doesn't boost my confidence."

"Well, I mean every word. And I would accept your offer, milady, with pride."

I stood and practically ran around the table, pulling the smaller girl into a hug, much to her surprise. "Thank you so much, Aaryn. I'll have to write to Hilda and tell her. She'll be as pleased as I am."

When I pulled back, she looked flustered, but happy. "It is I who must thank you. But I must ask why it is me you have picked for the position. You hardly know me at all."

"You've been tending mine and Éomer's chambers since we arrived in Edoras. Not once have you shown any interest at all in my husband, other than to see if your work was satisfactory."

She looked surprised at my answer. "I would think not, milady, for he is your husband, not mine."

"I'm not an idiot, Aaryn. I know that most of the women who work the Golden Hall fancy him in looks and reputation alone. You work among them. You must have heard the gossip."

"I try to ignore it," she admitted. "It is not the most polite of talk."

"And that's why I want you to do this job. Éomer will still be in Edoras for the time being and I would hate to have a maid ogling him right in front of my eyes. And even after he's gone, I couldn't trust any girl who had had those thoughts. I don't like to admit that I'm the jealous type, but I am."

"Well, then," said the young maid. "I suppose that is a very good reason."

"Then I'll see you in my chambers tomorrow at sunrise and we'll go over everything that must be done. I'll speak to Vanya about it tonight."

* * *

I followed my familiar path to Thèoden's private study after finishing with Dorwine. But when I opened the door, I was instantly attacked.

The large paws of a dog sent me falling to the floor. Its warm tongue lapped at my face and I nearly choked with laughter, it tickled so much. It was over almost instantly, though, as Éomer had come from nowhere, pulling the dog off me. "I'm sorry, love. The vendor assured me he was trained."

"You got a dog?" I asked, breathless with laughter. Éomer was the only one in the room, since it was still early.

"I did. And I doubt Thèoden will be pleased if the mutt isn't trained."

"Don't call him a mutt," I said, sitting up and scratching the dog's ears as Éomer held him at bay by the collar.

"So, you like him, then?" Éomer asked.

"I love him," I said, letting him lick my arm. He was rather large. I wasn't too knowledgeable on breeds. His fur was scruffy and mostly black with spots of white. He also couldn't be all that old.

"His name is Thalion, as the vendor tells me, though he doesn't seem to respond to it."

"What possessed you to get a dog?"

"I thought…well you mentioned how lonely you were in Aldburg. I thought he would be good company when I'm in the east. Elfhelm suggested I get you a lurcher, since they are easily trained to hunt and can run fast enough to keep up with a horse."

"You bought him so I wouldn't be lonely?"

"I did. And if you had told me two months ago that you were lonely, I could have attempted to rectify the situation much sooner. But at least I'm trying now."

His green eyes starred into my brown ones as I conveyed my thanks that could not be expressed through words. I pulled my hand up, caressing the skin of his cheek, which had grown rather prickly since our return to Edoras. Though I had certainly been busy, he had as well, working with Elfhelm to ready the First Eored before returning to Aldburg to work with the Third.

I leaned forward and placed my lips upon his, bringing us both into a deep kiss. Unfortunately, it did not last long, for Thalion let out a great bark and the voice of a man started yelling "Why in Bema's name is there a dog in my study!?"

Éomer pulled back and we both snorted in laughter. I peeked over his shoulder and saw Thèoden struggling with Thalion, who had jumped onto his hind legs and was using the King's chest for support.

"Forgive me, uncle. I purchased the dog today," Éomer said, rising from the chair and pulling the beast away from Thèoden.

"Why the blazes did you purchase a dog, Éomer?"

"For my wife, uncle."

That obviously meant something to Thèoden. Had Éomer been talking with his uncle behind my back? Perhaps, since he seemed so clueless as how to bring me out of my recent funk. I couldn't blame him. I didn't know how to get out of my own funk. The king didn't protest. He simply let out a small cough and bent down to scratch my new pet's ears as food followed him into the room for dinner.

* * *

 _Well, my faithful readers, that's it until August. So sorry this has to happen, but I'm really excited to return to my summer job and hope to get back to this soon. Maybe if I get Fourth of July off I'll be able to post something to get us through the final stretch, but we'll have to see if that's even possible. In the meantime, I'll still be able to respond to messages, so don't be afraid to send a little greeting if you're feeling friendly._

 _Please Review!_


	32. City

_Chapter 14: Arrival_

 _Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor_

 _Third Age 3020, August_

-Claire-

Dol Amroth was…well I doubt I could describe it in mere words, but I'll try.

The morning of our third day of travel, Lothiriel was obviously fed up with it. I was too, for under the constant scrutiny of his elder brother and father, Erchirion and I never found a moment alone. Of course, we conversed, but it was basic and courteous, for Imrahil was always listening. Lothiriel was the only person I could talk to in private, since we shared a tent at night. I had objected to it at first, as I never traveled with a tent. If it rained while I was on the road, I stayed in inns. But Lothiriel had insisted, hinting to me that it would be considered improper to sleep outside with the guardsmen, of which there were five.

Ever the gossip, I learned that her father knew nothing of what had been happening between myself and his second son. Elphir, however, knew more than he let on, though she was unsure of how much her eldest brother did know.

After my conversation with Arwen, I had made a decision on how I wanted to continue with Erchirion, but I obviously hadn't had the chance to tell him, so when we crossed into Belfalas, I became more and more nervous at the conversation that awaited us upon our arrival in the royal city.

And arrive we did and I hate to admit how my jaw basically dislodged itself from my face, I was so stunned.

Built into the side of a cliff, the brown and white stone that the fortification was made from was lapped at by the waves of the Bay of Belfalas. So high it was on the cliff that the waves could not reach it. Seagulls cawed through the air in a melodious tune that matched the smell of salt perfectly. The standard of Dol Amroth, a magnificent silver swan upon a field of dark blue, flew beside the standard of Minas Tirith over the entrance to the palace.

"I see my fair city pleases your eyes, Lady Claire," Imrahil said, pulling his horse up beside Arrod.

"And my ears, nose, and skin, my lord," I said, doing my best to show my admiration without sounding like an idiot.

The prince chuckled. "I am glad you approve, since you will be staying with us for some time."

"Again, I really do not wish to take advantage of your lord's hospitality."

"You do no such thing, my dear. You did not follow us here like a straggler. You were invited. And I think you'll find that my hospitality knows no limits," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

I was so happy I had Erchirion's father's approval. It made me less nervous about how to proceed with this whole thing.

I noticed Erchirion had fallen to the back of the group, trailing it with Solumn. I had learned that the guard, who had escorted me back to my chambers the night before I departed from this city, was not a stickler for propriety and Erchirion and I could talk freely around him without judgement. It was nice to have him and Lothiriel as allies, even if the latter was a bit too excited by the whole thing. I had told her my decision two nights ago and she had practically screamed with joy and then proceeded to divulge everything she knew when it came to Elphir and Imrahil's thoughts on me.

I pulled Arrod back with Erchirion and Solumn. My pleasure must have still been etched on my face, for Erchirion let out a hearty laugh. "You look as if you've seen the face of Ulmo," he said. "Tis just an ocean city."

"It's beautiful!" I countered, gesturing with my hand as we were lead around the edge of the village that laid below the fortress. "I mean, you said it was beautiful, but everyone says that about their home. This is actually stunning."

"I'm glad you approve," he said, echoing his father. "I had worried that a forest dweller would not appreciate the beach and ocean."

"Well, this forest dweller certainly does."

I had slowed Arrod down quite a bit and Goforth had matched him. We were a good fifteen yards away from the rest of the party, who had luckily not noticed. Solumn rode in the space that separated us from the group, making it look like less space than it actually was. He was a keeper, for sure.

"Are there any plans for tonight?" I asked.

"It is rather late in the day. I suspect everyone will want to recover from the road. Father normally hosts meals in his dining hall, but tonight, I suspect everyone would prefer to eat in their rooms."

"I was hoping," I said slowly, forcing my voice steady, though my stomach churned with nerves. "That we might be able to find some privacy. We haven't had a moment alone in four days and I've been wanting to talk to you."

He looked slightly surprised, but the happiness at my offer was clearly etched on his face as well. "What of, might I ask?"

"You'll find out if we can get some privacy."

He chuckled, and I could almost see the gears turning in his head. "We're almost to the palace. When we get there, you'll be given a room. Take a bath and rest from the road. After everyone has retired from the night, I'll knock on your door."

"What, no rocks on my window?"

"Not even I can throw rocks quite that high, dear Claire."

I laughed and sped Arrod back up, passing Solumn and catching up with the rest of the group as the rode to a stable not far from the entrance to the fortress. A number of young hands were there, welcoming back their princes and princess as they took the horses from their masters. I hopped from Arrod's back, glad to be free of the saddle, and handed his reins to one of the boys. Lothiriel took my hand as she led me into the palace, muttering something about how Beriana will be excited to meet me as we crossed the threshold of the fortress of Dol Amroth.

This was the fourth royal dwelling I had ever entered in my time in Middle-earth. It wasn't warm as Meduseld was, nor was it cold like the Tower of Ecthelion. In fact, it reminded me a bit of Emyn Arnen, though it smelled very different and was much larger.

Imrahil was greeted by an older woman who I took to be the housekeeper. "I suspect father will be finding you a girl," Lothiriel said. "All of the maids in Dol Amroth are well trained, though, so you should be pleased with whoever Lindwen picks."

"Oh, I don't need a maid," I said, turning to the younger girl. "I've never had a maid. Really, Lothiriel, he needn't bother."

"Tis not a bother, Claire. And sometime in the near future, you and I are going into town to find you some new dresses. I can't believe you only own the one."

"I own four dresses," I defended. Three, really, but I still had the one I stole from Rachel.

"And only one is Gondorian. Those Rohirric dresses are so simple and boring. You must be aching for something new. And maybe a riding dress as well."

"What's wrong with the one I'm wearing?"

"It isn't a dress. It is a split skirt."

I didn't have another chance to protest, for the old housekeeper had approached Lothiriel and I. "Princess Lothiriel, it is good to see you home."

"Lindwen," she said, nodding her head. "This is Lady Claire, sister to my cousin. Did my father inform you that she was without a maid?"

"He did, my lady. And I have one coming on her way upstairs to assist our guest."

"Oh, you really don't have to," I said. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

The housekeeper looked surprised and slightly insulted at my words, but Lothiriel covered for me quickly. "She is only trying to be courteous, Lindwen. There weren't any spare maids in Emyn Arnen, and I haven't had the chance to assure her that we have plenty in Dol Amroth."

"Indeed, my lady," she said, stepping away with a bow.

"What did I do?" I whispered.

"Lindwen trained all of the maids. To refuse one when there are plenty is an insult."

"I didn't mean to insult her. She simply needn't bother."

"But it isn't a bother," Lothiriel snapped. "To take one of the maids is to give them a job to further their wages. To refuse is keeping a good job from being done."

Huh…like _Downton Abbey_ , I thought, remembering the TV show I had watched so long ago. I had always identified with the downstairs so much. It would be weird to live the life if upstairs for a change.

Two girls, either my age or near it, were walking toward us now. Elphir and Imrahil had disappeared, but I noticed Erchirion watching us from the other end of the foyer, leaning on a column. He shot me a wink, which lifted my spirits, slightly.

"My lady," the one on the right greeted. "I'm glad to see you returned."

"I am glad to be back, Lynn," she said.

Lynn turned to me, as did her counterpart. "Lady Claire, welcome to Dol Amroth. This is Silma, my sister. She'll be attending you during your stay."

The girl curtsied and I ignored the urge to pull her back up to height. This was so weird, getting treated like a royal.

"I'll show you to your room, my lady, if you wish," Silma said.

I nodded and she led me through the halls, my cane clacking on the stone floor the whole way there.

"Do you have a malady that requires treatment, my lady?" she asked, eyeing the cane.

"It doesn't need treatment," I said shortly. The girl didn't question me any further.

We soon had ascended a staircase and had made it to a wooden door. "Prince Imrahil told Mistress Lindwen to house you in this room, my lady. I hope you find it satisfactory."

"In a city as beautiful as this, I would find a closet satisfactory," I insisted, following her into the room.

It was not a closet.

A giant four-poster bed took up a large space, but that still left a significant amount of room. There was a small sitting area with a loveseat and chairs. A giant wardrobe was against the wall and a desk was beside it. My saddlebags were sitting neatly in front of the wardrobe and on the west wall was a glass door overlooking the Bay of Belfalas in a stunning view. In the distance, I could see the glowing yellow of a lighthouse.

"My lady, a bath has been drawn for you in the washroom. I can wash your hair for you, or unpack your belongings, if you wish."

I didn't want her to do either, but I really didn't want her to wash my hair. What was it with Gondorian ladies and their inability to wash their own hair? I didn't want to accidentally insult someone again, so she unpacked while I went to the washroom, which was also rather large in size. Steam radiated off of the bath in the tub and my aching muscles welcomed the warmth of the water, as did my wound, which wasn't happy after the hike up the staircase.

When I exited the washroom wrapped in a towel that was long enough to cover the nasty scar on my leg, Silma was still there, waiting on me patiently. "Forgive me, my lady, but I couldn't seem to find a nightgown in your travel bags."

"I don't have a nightgown," I said.

"Then what will you sleep in?"

I walked over to the wardrobe, opening it to find that my four dresses had been hung neatly and the rest of my clothing took up the space of a single drawer. I pulled out a pair of cotton shorts and a nightshirt, both made for me by a seamstress in Bree. "I sleep in these," I explained.

The girl looked confused, but she didn't question it as I ran behind the screen next to the wardrobe and threw on the clothes. She was there almost instantly to retrieve the towel. "Will you be requiring anything else, my lady? Perhaps some food after your travels."

"Some food would be great," I said. Without another word Silma was darting out the door with another curtsy.

This would take some getting used to.

I waited up for Erchirion, my insides squirming with anticipation. I knew he would be happy, but how happy would he be, exactly? My thoughts kept darting back to the kiss we shared after dinner with his family and I couldn't help but think that tonight would escalate into wherever that kiss was headed.

Rachel was right in saying that this was no longer casual.

The knock sounded on my door well after the sun set. The soft glow of the lighthouse in the distance and the sound of the waves splashing against the cliff face was lulling me to sleep, but I was determined to get on with this. After all, we only had so much time.

The door opened without a single creak. Erchirion was there, a smile on his face as I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the room.

He shut the door behind himself. "What is it you wanted to speak of?" he asked, looking as nervous as I felt. "I'll not deny, the curiosity hasn't left my mind since you brought it up."

"Come sit down," I said, walking over to the loveseat and pulling my feet under my butt. He sat down beside me as I gathered my thoughts into actual words. "When we were in Minas Tirith, I had a long conversation with Arwen."

"And what did the queen have to say?"

I took a deep breath, readying for the meat of the conversation. "Erchirion, do you love me?"

He let out a small laugh, reaching over to stroke my face. "I believe I have made the answer to that question very clear."

I swatted his hand away. I needed to focus and it was hard enough with those gray eyes staring me down so intently. "And if I was to agree to…courtship…you understand that the outcome of that with me ends in separation? Nothing else."

At first, he looked slightly hurt when I moved his hand, but now, he looked shocked. I waited patiently for him to gather his words. "Claire…I must admit, that is not what I expected when I came to your room tonight."

"Many people have pointed out that I seem to be happier when you're around. And I told you the night we met that I was jealous my sisters had found this kind of happiness when I kept to the Shire and avoided it."

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

"I've been worried this whole time about hurting you, in the end. But the truth is, I'm terrified that I'll end up getting hurt instead."

He reached up to stroke my face again and this time I let him, having said my piece. He started pulling me closer and I expected him to kiss me. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a deep embrace and I let my head fall onto his chest. "I would never hurt you, Lady of Fire, for I do not believe myself capable." I let him hold me for Valar knows how long. He was the one to eventually break the silence. "I suppose we should tell my father. Ulmo knows he'll be pleased."

"He will?" I asked, turning my head up to his and earning another laugh.

"Of course. He'll be thrilled that I will no longer have to sneak behind his back. Moreover, he likes you very much and told me multiple times on the road to propose this very thing to you when we arrived. I honestly didn't expect you to beat me to it."

"He did?"

"You are so shocked to have won the favor of my father when you bested his suspicions with untruths back in Ithilian?"

"Oh gods. Please don't bring that up. I still feel guilty."

He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "You need not. Likely he has forgotten them by now. He has many things on his mind other than the girl his least favorite child is courting."

"You shouldn't say things like that," I muttered. Did he really believe that Imrahil favored any of his siblings more than the other? And that he was on the bottom of that tier?

"You are right, of course," he agreed, but I noted that he did not change his statement. "We have just under two months before the campaign sets out. Amrothos and Aranel will wed, which will be a fantastic event. But I want to show you my land before I depart. I wish to take you sailing through the bay and on a ride across the beach. Then there are the caves, which are not as treasured as they should be."

"Lothiriel wants to take me shopping. I'm afraid you and your sister will be fighting for my time."

"It's a good thing I never shy away from Lottie's challenges."

 _A/N: No, I'm not back yet, but I had the week off for the 4th of July and my birthday this week, so I decided a chapter was in order to get us through till the end of camp in August. Lately all I've been doing in tubing down rivers, life guarding, and trying to get some sleep. It's hard to find inspiration, despite the fact that Rachel is a camp counselor as well. Sigh. Anyway, I hope you like the chapter, and I would really love a review to get me writing some more chapters. Reviews really are my biggest motivation. Anyway, back to the fireworks they're throwing us tonight for the people who can't go home. Happy 4th Americans!_


	33. Different

_Chapter 15: Different_

 _Third Age 2030, September_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Rachel-

 _My Lady Rachel,_

 _I received word from my friend Mistress Gillwen, the seamstress of Edoras, that you have hired her daughter as your new handmaiden. This confused me until Eothain delivered the news of the brewing war in the east and your upcoming crowing as Under-king. This being the case, I am most pleased with your choice, my lady. Aaryn is a fine girl and, with practice, will serve you well._

 _I attempted to mount a steed yesterday, for I wished to see you crowned, but alas, my old bones are no longer suited for the saddle, whether sided or astride. So, I will remain in Aldburg with my nephew and send my support in the ink of this letter._

 _I will have Frida deliver this letter to you upon her arrival in Edoras for your crowning. May Bema bless you, my lady, in your new position. And please remember that, though I am leagues away, you need only write me your concerns, and I will offer up my counsel as your friend, like I once did as your maid._

 _Do not cut your hair, I beg of you._

 _In much love,_

 _Hilda_

I was nearing tears as I finished the letter. Frida offered me a small smile and I folded the paper back up. "Bema bless that woman," I muttered.

"She is a gem amongst rocks." Eonost and Eorinya had accompanied their mother and were staying as my guests in Meduseld. Both children were currently entertaining my dog, who was still growing accustomed to the way things never stayed still in this Hall. News had broken yesterday to the villagers that the eoreds would ride to war, along with their king, and that I would take Thèoden's position here. To my knowledge, it was mostly well received, but that did little to boost my confidence. I still worried about the responsibility after he departed, but I was determined not to show it.

I was ecstatic that Frida had managed to come. My old friend Maywen, who resided in the Northmark, could not attend, and it was comforting to have a friend who was going through something similar. Frida would take full command of Aldburg after Eothain left with the eoreds. It was not the same as taking on the responsibility of the entire kingdom. Then again, she had two rambunctious children to deal with as well. I reluctantly noted that, had many things gone differently, our situations may not have been all that different.

Aaryn had brought the new dress from her mother's shop two days ago to see if it needed any altering. Luckily, it fit like a glove. I wore it now, waiting in Thèoden's study for when I would go into the hall and dawn the queen's circlet. Premature it was, but as the queen was typically Under-king, Thèoden had insisted.

"Rachel," Frida started. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem unusually pale and full of distress."

I hesitated before asking the one question I had been waiting to ask. I glanced at the children and Thalion, making sure that they were too engrossed to listen. "What was it like, Frida? When Eothain rode to Pelennor?"

She grinned, obviously pleased that my thoughts were on this subject rather than the crowning. "Perhaps I should start earlier than Pelennor. It was more worrisome when he, Éomer, and Erkenbrand would ride out to fight the onslaught of Orcs in our own lands. Orcs were always the stuff of scary stories. To think that they were roaming the outskirts and attacking villages was terrifying and I feared every time Eothain awoke to Éomer's call. And then came Helm's Deep.

"Aldburg was frequently attacked. Not only by Orcs, but Wildmen as well. As a fortress, it was one of the first villages to be evacuated to the Hornburg. Eorinya was nearing four years old and I was six months pregnant with Eonost. She was reluctant to leave, more so than I. She didn't like traveling the plains without Eothain, who had followed Éomer after he had been banished by Wormtongue. I desperately wanted him to return, but knew he needed to be with Éomer.

"When all hope seemed lost and my father, as old as he was, was to be suited up for battle, I saw you." She sheepishly grinned at me and I leaned closer, listening to her words. "I didn't like you at first, I'll admit. A few of my friends, including Éowyn, had followed you into what I believed to be nonsense. I thought you would lead them to their deaths. But after a few days of observing, I realized what it was you were doing. You were not only giving the young boys a chance to live, but you were uniting our kingdom, which had been torn apart by Orcs, Wildmen, and Grima Wormtongue. You gave the people hope.

"When Eothain returned with Éomer and Erkenbrand, it could be heard from the caves, and I could only hope that Eothain was there, fighting with you. I knew not that Éowyn had perished and below in the caves was a resounding celebration for our returned exiled."

"But what of Pelennor?" I asked.

"You fear for Éomer's travels to Rhûn without you. I know this is why you ask such questions. But if he did not go Rachel, he would regret it forever, and you, being the one who kept him away, would not be able to live with that. He is a soldier, as is Eothain, and must do what he can to ensure the safety of the Mark."

I huffed, letting my head fall into my hands. Aaryn would have disapproved, since she spent the better part of the morning on my hair, but I felt as if I could no longer hold my own head up. There was still a month until the campaign began, but Éomer was needed in Aldburg after today, to ready the Third Eored

I felt Frida's hand on my shoulder. "I do not say these things to hurt you, my friend. I say them to prepare you. I wish someone had been there to tell me worrying for Eothain did no good."

"I know you mean well," I said, grasping her hand and sitting back up. "I wish it were simply a matter of turning my worries off, but…"

"But it doesn't work like that," she said.

We didn't get to talk much more, for Fingran entered the study, then. "My lady, it is time," he said, offering me his arm.

With a great amount of willpower, I accepted his arm as he led me through the corridors of Meduseld. "I hope this goes without saying, my lady, but I do not fear the coming months."

"And why is that?"

"Because I trust Thèoden King. And I trust him when he says that you are ready for this task, even though you doubt yourself."

"If you're trying to cheer me up, it's not working."

The old man chuckled as we neared the entrance to the Hall. "I did not expect it to. For you are the most stubborn woman I've ever met."

I smiled as I nudged him playfully in the ribs. "I always wondered why you treated me as you did. Better than the other advisors, I mean."

"I am old, my lady. I am also the only current advisor to hold a position here at Meduseld since Éomer and Éowyn were brought here as children. I have known them for a long time. I wept greatly when Éowyn passed and I feared for Éomer when he rode to Pelennor. I assume you knew he never intended to take a wife?" I nodded. "Then you should know how happy I was when he found you. Someone as stubborn and temperamental as he, who could ride and fight at his caliber. And it helped that you were no halfwit."

I chuckled. "So it all comes down to love, then?"

The old advisor sighed. "Doesn't it always?"

We had reached the door then and Fingran walked me through, his arm entangled with mine all the way to the dais. And I finally accepted my fate.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm back! Well, mostly. I'm currently still at camp for one more week and should be gone by next Sunday. However, I've barely written anything for this story the past couple of months and finding my footing is proving super hard after writing this (I'm sorry) very short chapter. Plus, I'm moving into a new apartment and helping my parents move across the state. it's a super stressful time in my life right now, but i wanted to come back because I miss this place so much. If it takes me a little while to get back on schedule, please forgive me. I'll do my best, I promise._


	34. Money

_Chapter 16: Money_

 _Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor_

 _Third Age 3020, September_

-Claire-

Lothiriel lead me through the village of Dol Amroth a week after I arrived. So much had happened in that span of time and I was grateful to get out of the palace for a little while. Erchirion and I had informed his father that we were entering courtship the morning after we arrived and, to my great surprise, the older prince was ecstatic. I wanted to tell him the conditions of the relationship, but Erchirion insisted that it could wait. Elphir knew, but Erchirion insisted that his elder brother would keep his mouth shut when it came to this. Apparently the two brothers resolved whatever argument had brewed in Ithilian.

And then there was meeting Amrothos, who, it turns out, I actually remembered from Kristen's wedding, since he had danced with me twice and I had stepped on his feet many more times than that. The youngest Dol Amroth Prince I found to be greater company than his eldest brother, for he was incredibly easy going and funny. Elphir was so serious all of the time and I attributed this to the upcoming campaign. The only time you could catch him in a good mood was when he was with his son, Alphros, who was now crawling on his own and forming small words. Beriana was an enjoyable presence, though I never saw her much since she was so occupied with her son.

Aranel was by far my favorite person in the castle (other than Erchirion, of course). I think this was because we were both adjusting to this whole court-life thing. While Lothiriel tried to sympathize with my utter cluelessness at how to act inside the palace, Aranel actually knew what I was going through and her advice came more soundly than the princess's.

Aranel accompanied Lothiriel and I in the city now. Many of the villagers would give small bows or curtsies when Lothiriel passed, but I noticed that they were not as courteous to Aranel. The words Lothiriel had spoken to me about her future sister-in-law's rise in class was definitely not amiss amongst the villagers. Aranel held her head high, all the same.

Lothiriel's destination was clearly the seamstress's shop, for her incessant need to fit me into proper Gondorian dresses was ever present. Aranel also needed to be fitted for her wedding dress, so this trip killed two birds with one stone.

The shop was apparently manned by three women, a mother and her daughters. While one of the girls pulled Aranel to a fitting room, Lothiriel pulled me over to the fabrics.

"Lothiriel, there are plenty of dresses already sewn. I would sooner buy one of them," I insisted.

"No, no, no," she chirped, grabbing at a roll of pink silk and trailing it between her fingers. "Those are for the girls in the village. Besides, our service does great business for the shop, especially with the extra price of having your dress made for you."

"I understand the economics. But pink isn't really my color." I noted the price of the fabric and my stomach did a flip. Rachel and Kristen both granted me stipends and my work for Butterbur had earned me a decent amount of coin, but certainly not that much coin.

She giggled. "It doesn't have to be pink. A light blue would bring out your eyes." She moved to inspect a different fabric of the shade she described, but its price was even higher.

"Seriously, Lothiriel, I don't even need a new dress, let alone one custom made for me."

"I won't hear it," she protested. "You'll not wear that dull gray thing to the wedding."

I hated confrontation. I hated it even more when it was someone I liked. Lothiriel was generally a good friend, but when it came to extravagancies, she could not be swayed.

"I have other dresses."

"Of Rohirric fashion. Claire, we have had this conversation already. I'll not have you the butt of any jokes next week."

She wasn't going to give up on this, so I may as well concede. I walked over to the fabrics of a great lesser price and tugged at a soft yellow. "No, you don't want yellow," she said. "With your hair, it will wash you out. But this blue, Claire, would be lovely one you."

I tugged at a blue of cheaper fabric. "Why not this shade?"

"I think the silk would be best."

"For Ulmo's sake, Lottie," Aranel called, walking out of the fitting room, adorned in her wedding dress. "Leave her be."

"I only want to help," the younger girl insisted.

"I know you do, but you're not helping. Simply let Claire buy what she wants to buy, even if it is a dress from the racks."

"The dresses on display are of a very nice quality, princess," the owner of the shop insisted.

"I do not doubt it, Hilwen," Lothiriel said. "But I would not begrudge you our business."

"It's still business if I buy one from the racks."

"But we can offer better—,"

"Lothiriel, I can't!" I nearly yelled. The shopkeepers noticed the tension and immediately began busying themselves once more. Aranel shot me a wink. She had understood, I could tell, even if it was still clueless to the princess.

"Of course you can," she said, confused at my outburst. "What could be stopping you?"

"I do not have the money," I admitted.

She looked confused. "But you have two sisters that want for nothing—,"

"And they are my sisters, not me. Yes, they give me some coin when I visit, but no more than what I require to live on, per my request. If I spend money on extravagancies, it is through coin I've earned myself."

"You work a job?" she asked, curiously.

"I tend a bar and wait tables at the Prancing Pony in Bree."

"You're a barkeep?" she gasped.

"An honest one," I insisted, knowing she could think me loose. "But a barkeep nonetheless."

She hesitated before speaking again. "Why did you keep this from me? Does Erchirion know?"

"He knows. And I didn't tell you because…well…" I struggled to find words, but Aranel didn't.

"As the daughter of a baker marrying your brother, the prince," she said, reappearing in her normal wear. "I know how hard it can be to be yourself inside the walls of the castle. And could you blame her, Lottie, with the stories you've told her about the people's reaction to me?"

The princess sighed. "You are right of course. I'm sorry I did not think of the expenses, Claire. But I would be happy to pay for it."

"It would not be you, but rather your father, paying for it," I explained. "Better yet, that comes from the taxes of your villagers. I told you I understood the economics of a new dress, and I will buy one for the wedding, but I will do so with my own money."

Aranel clapped me on the back as Lothiriel nodded and walked me over to the dresses in stock.

* * *

"You're sister needs to spend more time in the village," I said, walking into Erchirion's chambers and falling onto his couch.

It was pointed out to me many times that he and I being alone together was inappropriate, but I didn't care. The whole reason I accepted the invitation to Dol Amroth was to spend time with him, and I wouldn't be begrudged that because Imrahil thought we needed a chaperone. The household staff thought I was a floozy, even my own maid, but nothing ever happened. Well, at least during the day, since he was so busy.

"And why is that?"

"She seems to have forgotten that not everyone lives as she does. I fear she could use a good reality check. I told her I worked as a barkeep."

"And did she accuse you of selling yourself to your patrons?" he asked, lifting up my legs and sitting below them, letting them rest in his lap.

"I didn't give her the chance. She tried to get me to buy this expensive silk and it all just came out like word vomit."

He wrinkled his nose. "This is a despicable phrase, though it does seem to paint the picture." He paused before continuing. "You know, if you had said something, I would have given you some extra coin."

I shook my head. "I bought a dress off the racks. It only needed to be brought in at the bust. It wasn't all that expensive."

He seemed to want to say more, but he stayed silent.

Our days over the week since our arrival had been rather busy. Lothiriel and Aranel had insisted on spending time with me. Though Lothiriel knew of my condition, the younger girl did not treat me any different because of it and went on to assume, like most courtships, that Erchirion and I would marry. I didn't have the heart to tell her that marriage was never happening.

Aranel had also sought out time with me, though it was for different reasons. We both liked that there was another person in the castle that felt like an outsider.

Erchirion was super busy, of course, organizing things with his father and Elphir for the campaign east. Amrothos was there as well, but since his nuptials were impending, he didn't have to play as great a part.

That left only the nighttime for us to be truly alone and he had taken me to his favorite parts of the castle, one of which was the high tower. He said he had brought me there to stargaze, but we didn't really pay much attention to the stars.

But we still had over a month. Imrahil couldn't keep him cooped up the whole time.

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	35. Advice

_Chapter 17: Advice_

 _Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor_

 _Third Age 3020, September_

-Lothiriel-

"Come and dance with me, Claire," Amrothos called from across the room.

"Shouldn't you be dancing with your wife?" she countered.

"Oh, they will dance, my dear," Erchirion chuckled. "But in the privacy of their room." I bit back my laughter at his insinuation.

"Exactly!" Amrothos said, reaching our table. "And I must dance with other women while I still have the chance!"

"But I can't dance," Claire argued. "Even before I hurt my leg. I'm too klutzy."

"I do seem to remember you crushing my toes at Faramir's wedding," the younger brother said.

"Then why ask me now?"

"Because Erchirion won't and all beautiful women deserve to be asked."

"Do not think that because it is your wedding day, I will not hit you, Amrothos," Erchirion growled.

"Then ask her yourself then, brother," I put in. "So that Amrothos does not feel obligated."

Erchirion let out a deep breath and turned to Claire, giving her an apologetic look. "Only to spare you of my younger brother, would you dance with me, Claire?"

"I thought you couldn't dance?" she asked.

"Oh, Erchie can dance," I said. "I just can't remember the last time he did so."

She smiled. "I wish I could. I actually mean it. But with my limp, it's just not possible. At the first turn left, I'll lose my balance."

"How did you acquire that?" Amrothos asked. "You did not have it at Elessar's wedding."

"It's…a long story," she muttered. Erchie suddenly looked uneasy. Clearly, they hadn't told him yet. Elphir knew, as he'd been gossiping in Emyn Arnen, but other than him and me, I had a feeling Claire and Erchie had kept that aspect of their romance to themselves. My father would not be pleased when they inevitably told him.

"Well, you'll need to tell me at a more appropriate time. I do love a good and bloody battle story."

"What makes you think I got it in a battle?"

"Lucky guess?" he said innocently. "Now, if you are not to dance with me, dear Claire, I shall ask Beriana, who appears rather bored over there at her lonely table."

He left, swaying slightly under his influence of a fine bottle of wine delivered from Minas Tirith as a gift from Elessar.

"Are you going to tell him?" I asked. I didn't want to ruin the festive mood, but I had to know. I didn't like keeping secrets from my father. I was too familiar with the concept and it hurt me every time I did so.

"There just…never seems to be a good moment," Claire muttered, now looking completely uncomfortable.

"They wouldn't understand," Erchie muttered, gripping his goblet. "I already know what they would say, Lottie, and I don't care to hear it."

"They? I thought we were talking of Amrothos?" Claire asked.

"He means him and our father," I clarified. "But they will find out, Erchie. One way or another, in a year's time, they will know."

"Then they can know in a year and judge me accordingly. I should not have to listen to it when we are to leave for the east. We don't need that between us during war."

"You think they'd be angry?" Claire asked.

"I don't think Amrothos would care much, really," I said. "But Father…he could be angry, yes."

"He would be furious," Erchirion snapped.

"That's why you didn't want to tell him," Claire said, and instantly, I knew this was not a conversation I should be a part of. "Erchirion, I don't care what he thinks of me. This was our decision."

"I care," my brother said, running his hand through his hair. He had cut it again and it only came halfway down his neck now. "I care what he thinks. And he would think ill of our match. Lottie can attest to that."

"I think he would be mad that you kept it from him," I said. "But he is fond of Claire. I think he would forgive it."

"Lothiriel, he would demand we end it."

"You really think that?" Claire muttered, smoothing out a crumpled napkin on her lap.

I didn't give Erchirion a chance to answer. "It will end inevitably, won't it?"

Erchie opened his mouth to respond, but Claire stood up then, grabbed her cane from behind her chair and limped out of the hall. My brother grunted in frustration. "You had to say that, didn't you, sister?"

"I didn't mean to upset her—,"

"You never do. You don't think before you speak."

"You don't need to be so cross. I'll apologize for what I said. I suppose I didn't expect the topic to be so sensitive."

"Why would it not be, Lothiriel? She doesn't want to sail to Aman, but she must or she will die. And now I've put her in this situation…she really shouldn't even be here."

"How can you say that?"

"She should be spending her last months with her family, not me. It's not that I'm ungrateful, but I cornered her into an impossible situation with my greed and selfishness. I pined after her for a year and was blinded by my own success that night on the balcony of Emyn Arnen."

"Do you regret it?" I asked, hesitantly. It was rare for Erchirion to share with me like this. Amrothos, not so much, but my elder brothers had always been reserved. I knew Claire's stance on their courtship, but my brother's was a mystery to me. I wanted to know, but I had to be careful of what I asked, for he could shut me out instantly.

"No," he said, leaning into the palms of his hands. "That is the sick part. I have been so selfish and know my faults in this, yet I have no regrets."

"Erchie, do you love her?"

He peeked at me from under his hands and let out a deep breath. "I do, Lottie. Yet I do not love her enough to let her go."

I rolled my eyes. "Men think it so romantic when they are able to sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of women, but in the end, all a woman wants is dependency. Erchie, if you are truly in love, you have a right to be selfish. Don't think yourself weak because you managed to woo her. You did it in an impossible circumstance. Be proud of that accomplishment. You would not have been strong if you had let her go after you learned the truth. You would have been a coward."

"I shouldn't have told you any of this. You refuse to think of Claire's side."

"Oh, I have heard all I care to on that angle, thank you very much. You act as if we never talk."

His head jerked up from his hands, his eyes suddenly interested. "She has spoken to you of this?"

"Yes. And what I say is true. She has never said it out loud, but I believe that you have won her heart, brother dear. And it seems to me you are both so riddled with guilt over the whole courtship that you step on each other's toes. I don't know what you two do behind closed doors, for you forgo the use of a chaperone, something Aunt Ivriniel nearly choked over when she found out. She feels guilt for having to leave you in a year. You feel guilt because you believe to have tricked her into courtship, rather than have her spend time with her family. Seems to me, if you are both guilty, then you truly belong together."

He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating my words. "Is it odd that everything you said makes perfect sense?"

"Not in the least. If you spoke with me more often, you would learn that I am actually rather smart, brother dear."

He grinned. "Then what should I do next, wise sister of mine?"

"Tell Amrothos and Father, if she wishes it. You are a grown man, you don't need to worry about what Father thinks. Then, take her to bed."

He had been taking a gulp of wine, but at my last sentence, he choked on the drink, and I did my best to hold back my laughter. "Excuse me?" he exclaimed after he regained his breath.

"Getting married would be a waste of time. Time that neither of you have. And we both know the perils of war. We need not ignore that fact that you may not return. Take advantage of the time you do have."

He was still in slight shock. "I never thought we would be having this conversation."

"I will admit, it is a surprise to me too." I thought he would say something more, but he just continued to sit there, staring at me. "What?" I snapped.

"I've just realized that my baby sister may be growing up."

I rolled my eyes. "Go find Claire, Erchirion."

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	36. Ivriniel

_Chapter 18: Ivriniel_

 _Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor_

 _Third Age 3020, September_

-Claire-

Yeah, I ran from the table. So sue me.

I had said it in my head so many times and to Erchirion back in Ithilian, but hearing Lothiriel say it was just too much. I had been having such a great time. Aranel looked so beautiful and happy and Amrothos was as exuberant as ever. Even Elphir was enjoying himself.

My evening did not get better quickly.

"I see I'm not the only one who needed a break," a voice said from the shadows. An older women came into the light. She was maybe in her seventies, very wrinkled and chubby. Her aged face did not hold the amusement that her voice did, though. She looked rather cross, her crow's feet crinkled in something close to annoyance. Her gray hair, the color rather close to her eyes, was wound in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and her dress was a rather boring style in a respectable navy blue which contrasted to the baby blue of my own, strikingly.

I smiled, not wanting this stranger to question my brimming distress, but she didn't return it. "I can only handle so much of a party," I said, but it was obviously not what she wanted to hear. "I only mean that it is hard for me to celebrate when my friends are to ride to war again."

That seemed to satisfy her. "Too right. My brother is far too old to ride to the eastern lands. My niece, in turn, is too young to rule in his stead, let alone the fact she is female."

I raised an eyebrow, but I couldn't question her last comment immediately, for I finally had a name for this new face. "You're Lady Ivriniel," I said, giving a small nod of my head. "I apologize. My name is—,"

"I know who you are," the old woman snapped. "I know too well. Imrahil tells me Erchirion is courting you."

"I'd say we're courting each other," I said, attempting a joke, but Ivriniel didn't find it funny. In fact, she grew even more cross.

"A woman does not court a man, girl. A man can have his way with any woman he chooses, so he must be the one to do the choosing."

Huh…now, I'd met sexist men, but sexist women were another thing. Sure, there were some who thought there were things they couldn't do, but I'd never encountered a woman who blatantly pushed herself down the tier.

"You are confused by that statement?" Ivriniel continued. "It's no wonder. Elphir told me of your history. Your sister is that tiny, squawking girl my nephew, Faramir, married. And you have another married to a Rohir. Nasty, brutish race of people, the Rohirrim."

"I'm sorry, have you ever met a Rohir?" I countered. I was going to forgive her because she was old, but now she was being just plain rude.

"No, and I hope I never do."

I turned and looked back into the ballroom. Erchirion was still talking to Lothiriel, his head in his hands. Amrothos and Aranel were both suited with dance partners, one of them being Beriana. Imrahil was talking to some courtly looking dude. No rescue was coming my way from this vile woman.

"There are rumors about you," the old crow said, bringing me out of my search. "Not that one believes such things. I only wonder how they came to surface."

"If they're about me coming to Middle-earth from another realm, they're not rumors. Well, I suppose they're still rumors, but they're not false."

She let out a huff that I think was her version of a chuckle. "You seek attention and fame. Young things like you think mystery will make you exotic. It only makes you seem fanatical."

"Think what you must think, Lady Ivriniel. I've told you no lies."

She huffed again and made her back even straighter. "I suppose it will come as no surprise to you that I do not approve the union between you and my nephew."

"After conversing with me, my lady, it shouldn't be a surprise that I don't care what you think." I wasn't normally this rude, but this old hag had insulted Rachel and Kristen and called me a liar in less than two minutes.

Nonetheless, it ticked her off. "A fabricator and a twit. My distain for you grows with every word you speak. It was apparent to me you were not of royal court the moment I saw you in that raggedy dress. No money to buy proper attire, bad posture, not to mention crippled. Clearly, no one has ever taught you proper speech, nor how to curtsy for a royal like myself. You are worse than the peasant girl in there, parading around on Amrothos's arm like she belongs there. That girl belongs no further than a baker's oven, just as you belong no further than whatever job pays for a dress that shabby."

My jaw literally dropped. What the hell? "Okay," I said, taking a step toward the hag, letting her know I wasn't backing down. "I don't know what I did to insult you, but I think you've stepped way over the line, lady."

 _Smack_. Right across my face. And holy biscuits and gravy, did that old broad have one hell of a backhand. I could taste blood in my mouth. "If you plan to stick around, you will learn your place, you little wench," she snarled.

"Lady Claire?" a new voice asked. Elphir had shown up, and took in the sight of my hand pressed to the cheek his aunt had slapped. "Aunt? What is going on?"

"This little twit thinks I have 'stepped over the line', nephew," Ivriniel said. "I will be speaking to your father about this. Mark my words, she will be gone from this castle in mere hours when I have my way. I thought that Aranel was unfit, but Amrothos clearly could have done much worse."

"She's not going anywhere, Aunt Ivriniel," he said calmly as my head shot up in surprise. Was Elphir defending me? No, he couldn't be. He didn't like me. Or, he didn't like that I made Erchirion happy. Either way, he hadn't spoken to me since before we arrived in Dol Amroth. Why should he defend me now?

"Hold your tongue, Elphir," Ivriniel snapped.

"You have no daughters to bully and instead you bully my sister, my wife, and my new in-law. Now you would bully my brother's consort? No doubt you will bully my son when he is old enough. I will not hold my tongue, aunt. Lady Claire will remain in Dol Amroth so long as she wishes."

I would have dropped my jaw again had my mouth not been bleeding.

"I think it's time for you to retire, Ivriniel."

The old woman's eyes turned to fire, but she didn't protest. She just strutted out of the hallway. I guess she truly believed she was below the order of a man.

Elphir walked closer to me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Did she hit you?"

"With unexpected strength," I muttered.

He chuckled. "I met the back of her hand more than once as a child. When I came of age, I guess she no longer thought it right to do it again. Same with Erchie and Amrothos. Lottie met it when she was four, but my mother threatened to lay off Ivriniel's house staff if she ever touched her again. She hasn't met Aranel much, but I have a feeling if they were left alone, Aranel would be about as lucky as you."

I snorted rather than laughed, not wanting the blood in my mouth to accidently escape. "You should have some water," Elphir said. He must have seen the blood on my teeth.

"What's going on here?" Erchirion said, walking into the hallway.

"Ivriniel hit Claire so I sent her home."

Erchirion scoffed. "Crazy old bat. Father shouldn't let her out of her house." He walked over to me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and Elphir answered for me. "She needs some water. She got the worst of it."

Erchirion nodded knowingly and led me through the hall and into a public washroom with a running tap. I washed my mouth out, savoring the fresh taste of the water ridding it of the blood.

"Did you talk to her or did she simply hit you?" Erchirion asked when I was finished. "Because I've gotten the slap for simply coughing during breakfast."

"Your father lets her just hit you all like that?" I asked.

"Well, he tells her off, but she just ignores him. Though, the one time she hit Lottie was the last. She even took a swing at Beriana once, but Elphir nearly choked her. Amrothos was scared to leave Aranel alone with her. I should have known she'd pounce on you at her first chance. What did she say to you?"

"She…she insulted Rachel and Kristen then proceeded to insult me."

He waved a hand. "She finds no pleasure in anything but herself, Claire. Don't let that old bat's words trouble you. I swear she sits up late into the night just to think of fresh insults."

"She called me a liar," I muttered, opening the door and walking back into the hallway.

"See what I mean? She can't even think of proper insults. She could only speak her own lies."

"But she was right," I said, stopping to lean against the wall. "She didn't know it, but she was right. I know you don't want to, Erchirion, but we need to tell your father the truth about my leg."

"Claire, we're not lying to my father."

"But we're not telling the truth, either. I never wanted to keep it a secret, but I've gone out of my way to keep him from knowing. I don't like it. I've already lied to your father back in Emyn Arnen—,"

"Which he has forgotten about, as promised."

"You're missing the point."

He let out a sigh and leaned against the wall with me. "You're right. Of course you're right."

My head jerked up in surprise. "Wow, you gave in pretty easy."

"Lothiriel already had me convinced. She's smarter than I give her credit for."

"And what else did Lothiriel convince you of during your rather long conversation?"

"Nothing," he answered just a little too fast.

I rolled my eyes. He would tell me sooner or later. It had become apparent that he couldn't keep secrets from me. He always ended up spilling them anyways. "Let's get back to the party before Amrothos notices we're gone. I'd rather not sit through a meal with his two-sided comments again."

 _Please Review!_


	37. Tonight

_Chapter 16: Tonight_

 _Third Age, 3020, October_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

-Rachel-

Éomer had been gone for four weeks. The minute my "coronation" was over, he left for Aldburg to organize the Third Eored for Rhûn, leaving me in Edoras with Thèoden. I didn't mind, though. The work of under-king kept me busy and when I did find spare time, I always had a friend. Maywen, my old second-in-command, had visited me not long after Éomer had left with apologies for missing the crowning as her niece had given birth the day before. Frida and the kids stayed for a week as had Rimbon, who was staying behind as part of my guard. I had tried to insist that I didn't need a five man guard, but Thèoden shut me down. If he had to have a ten-man guard, I could deal with a five. Rimbon accompanied Frida and the kids back to Aldburg and returned to Edoras two days later.

Letters from Kristen were frequent and came every week, letting me know of the preparations in Gondor. Faramir was staying in Ithilian as long as possible before he needed to depart for Minas Tirith. Flynn…well, he was only pushing three months. He could make sounds that weren't wails and lift his own head now, but other than that, he was pretty much the same.

The one person I hadn't heard from a lot was Claire. A messenger had arrived from Dol Amroth a week ago bearing her first and only letter, though I had sent her three through the Dimult road.

 _Dear Rachel,_

 _I'm sorry I haven't written, but my days in Dol Amroth have been full to the brim as every member of the royal family works to make sure every moment of my time is taken._

 _This is the most beautiful city I've ever seen. Erchirion said the novelty of it would wear off after a few days, but it's been nearly two months and I still look out the balcony of my room in awe. Erchirion has been busy, of course, but he's managed to find plenty of time to spend with me. He took me riding on the beach, which Arrod loved, by the way. Tomorrow, he's taking me sailing through the Bay of Belfalas and to the caves along the cliff face. I wish you could see it, Rachel. I thought Rivendell was the most beautiful place in Middle-earth, but it turns out that the real treasure is a tiny sea-kingdom._

 _I've also made an interesting discovery. Turns out, before Imrahil learned of your courtship with Éomer, he tried to persuade Aragorn to approve a marriage between Lothiriel and Éomer. Of course he abandoned the idea when he learned of you, but the good news is, that whole thing would have been arranged. I wondered if I should write that to you in a letter or tell you in person, but I figured you would want to know._

 _I'm still planning on coming to Rohan as soon as the swan-knights depart Belfalas, so you don't need to send a reply. That is, if Lothiriel allows it. Whenever I'm not with Erchirion, she has me glued to her side. She can be rather childish sometimes, but that's only when she's not "on duty" as she calls it. Dol Amroth will be in good hands when Imrahil is gone._

 _I have so much to tell you that I don't think is right to say in a letter, which is the other reason I haven't been writing. I hope to see you soon. Don't let the pressure get you down. I know you're doing fine._

 _With love,_

 _Claire_

I sighed as I finished the letter. Today had been a busy one as Thèoden and the eoreds were to depart tomorrow. The king had dismissed me early to my chambers since I was exhausted. I would have to be up before dawn tomorrow to see the First Eored off. The fact that I had once been second-in-command to every one of them had not gone amiss and my heart strained at the fact they were riding off for war without me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was abandoning them by staying within the safety of Edoras's walls.

I set Claire's letter down on my vanity and started pulling the pins from my hair. It was slowly gaining back its length and was about two inches past my shoulders now. After getting Hilda's letter, I hadn't had the balls to chop it off. But the fact that I never really rode out unexpectantly anymore kept it from being a nuisance. I just needed it out of my face since I was slumped behind a desk most of the time.

A knock sounded on my door as I pulled the last pin. "Come in," I called, expecting Aaryn, who always came up as soon as I retired for the night. The door opened and I grabbed my brush and started pulling it through the tangles without turning around to greet her. "I don't think I'll take a bath tonight, Aaryn, but I wouldn't say no to some dinner in here. You're more than welcome to join me, if you want."

"Do you often dine with your maid?" said a voice much deeper than I had been expecting.

I turned in my chair, my eyes meeting those of my husband and I nearly flew into his arms. "I wasn't expecting you. I thought you'd have to stay in Aldburg."

"Every man in the Third Eored is with his wife tonight," he said into my ear, hugging my body close to his chest tightly. "They wouldn't begrudge me the same. You didn't think I would leave without saying goodbye?"

I pulled back, wanting to look at the face I wouldn't get to see for the next few months. "I suppose I'm so saddled with responsibility here that I expected everyone to be just as saddled."

He grinned, tucking my overgrown hair behind my ear. "Some things are so important, we can allow responsibility to take a side step." And he brought his lips down upon mine and I sunk into the kiss. My arms were already around his neck as I tightened them, closing the little space that was left between us. Éomer practically picked me up and threw me on the bed and I laughed as my butt hit the cushion. "Aaryn will be here any minute," I said, nodding at the door.

"No she won't," he said, moving on top of me, keeping his body suspended with his arms. "I ran into her on my way through the Hall and sent her home early. Thalion is in Thèoden's study."

"Well, didn't you think of everything?" I jested, untying the laces of his armor. Ugh, why did he wear armor? It was so hard to get off.

But eventually, we did get it off and his mouth returned to mine, sending us both into that place where only we could go.

* * *

 _I wish you didn't have to go._

I didn't say it out loud because I didn't want to upset my husband before he left. Besides, he didn't want to leave any more than I wanted him to. Moreover, I couldn't ask it of him. He was a soldier. He had a duty to his country, first and foremost. He couldn't shirk this responsibility any more than I could shirk mine. I had to accept that.

He was still regaining his breath as I curled into his flushed skin. I hadn't been able to come, too anxious for when he had to leave. My mind wouldn't relax enough for my body to enjoy this last moment we would share for months. But I couldn't tell Éomer that. So I faked it.

His arm wrapped around me as his breathing slowed and he brought me closer and kissed the top of my head. I think he had things he wanted to say as well, but he kept them inside. We were too alike in that way. Too afraid to say something that was wrong. Unless it was an accident.

But eventually, he did speak. "Do you remember what I said in Ithilian?"

"You said many things in Ithilian, Éomer."

He kept his head buried in the top of my own. "Rachel, being away from you these last few weeks made me realize I had broken my promise. I told you I would not force you to rule the kingdom. But as soon as we returned, I let Thèoden guilt you into taking the title of Under-king. I encouraged it."

I pulled my head up to face his. I wanted to look him in the eye. "Éomer, I haven't forgotten. If I wanted to leave, do you really think anything would stop me? I'm right where I want to be. I shouldn't have made our marriage out to be full of ultimatums. If I have to take on this responsibility to be your wife, I'll do it. My own self-doubt hindered me from easily accepting the position."

He looked guilty. "I didn't mean for this to turn into an apology. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes I did. But I'm glad you think better of me."

He was silent for a moment more before continuing. "Rachel, if I don't return—,"

"Shut up."

"I'm serious, love," he said, his eyes suddenly intense. "If I do not return, do not feel obligated to stay here. More importantly, do not close off your heart. You have so much love in you and…it would be wasted if you spent your life alone."

"Do you really think I would just run off with someone if you died?"

He ran a hand over his face. "You misunderstand me. When my father died, my mother let her grief consume her. I do not wish the same fate for you. I cannot think of a worse death than just giving up."

I understood now, what he was trying to tell me. Don't be like Theodwyn. Be stronger than Theodwyn.

I just didn't know if I could be.

* * *

Dawn neared the great thatched roof of the Golden Hall, but Éomer would not get to see it shine today. In the morning mist, I watched as Firefoot became smaller and smaller as Éomer set back to Aldburg. Thalion was laying on the stone terrace beside me, despite the fact that the stones were freezing now that we were in the thick of autumn.

"Éowyn used to do this," a vice said softly behind me.

I turned, and was facing the king, whose face held a somber look. "Do what, uncle?"

"Stand upon the terrace looking out into an uncertain future." He walked to my side, his left shoulder touching my right. "You are much like her in many ways. You always have been. Stubborn, loyal, brave."

"I am not brave, uncle," I protested.

"Say no such thing," the old king demanded. "A ruler must be honest in their qualities. And your bravery is something no one would deny."

"My bravery is little more than foolishness. Ask Aragorn, he'll tell you as much."

The old man sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "As I said, you are stubborn."

"That I will not deny."

He chuckled, reaching his hand down to scratch Thalion's ears, who had perked up when a new figure arrived. "Rachel, I never apologized for what happened last February—,"

"And you don't need to, sire."

"Oh, but I do." Suddenly, the king looked very guilty. "Hemonbold is a good man and a good advisor to my council. Because of this, I trusted his word blindly and let his judgements cloud my own. It has haunted me greatly since your return, for I was too well reminded of the time I followed the biased words of another advisor."

"Grima was a bastard," I said. "A bastard who had you under an evil enchantment. Your actions at the time were not of one in his right mind and you would not have acted upon them without the influence of Saruman."

"You are right, perhaps. Of course, we will never know. But that doesn't change the fact that I did wrong by you, my dear. I never thought Éomer would find a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And perhaps he never would have, had you not stumbled upon our world. But he found you and I am eternally grateful.

"When I took Éomer and Éowyn under my roof after Theodwyn's passing, they became my children, as much as my beloved Theodred. Éomer is my son and I want you to know that I think of you as my own daughter. Not because you married Éomer or because you are so like Éowyn. But because I truly care for you as such. And I have done a poor job of showing it after treating you as I did in February and sending you off to Aldburg the moment you were wed. And I am sorry, my dear. I truly am."

I watched the king as he gave this speech, unable to talk myself when he finished. But he wasn't unnerved by my silence. He simply put his hand on my cheek and continued. "Éomer showed me a piece of your writing while you were…away. I know I was never meant to see it, but I know my time has already come to pass me by. This is why, if I do not return, you must not see it as a tragedy, child. For it is already a happiness that I stand beside you now."

"I…I didn't know you knew about Pelennor."

"I never expected to tell you, but I do not like keeping secrets from my children. However, it is not the part of my fate that I wish to talk about, but rather the part about you seeing me as a father."

I could feel my face turning red, despite the fact he had just told me he saw me as a daughter. In my nerves, I blurted out, "I suppose that's why it hurt so much when you told me not to marry Éomer. It felt like you didn't want me to be a part of your family."

Thèoden pulled me into a tight hug and we stood in the cold, embraced. "Oh, my darling girl. I do not like knowing I hurt you so much. But if I return, know that I will do better by you. I will try to be the father figure you see me as."

I hugged him back, tears welling up in my eyes. "You already are."


	38. Past

_Chapter 17: Past_

 _Third Age, 3020, Late September_

 _Belfalas, Gondor_

-Erchirion-

"That was so much fun!" Claire said, still peaked with excitement from our small voyage. "I never knew sailing could be so exhilarating!"

"I honestly didn't expect you to like it this much," I admitted.

"How could I not? It was like a rollercoaster but without a seatbelt!"

"What is a rollercoaster?" I asked.

"It's a giant construct made out of metal," she said, explaining the contraption to the best of her abilities. She often compared things we had done to things she left behind in her homeworld. I always asked her to explain, for I was immensely interested in her origins and the things she described were so outrageous and entertaining to envision. Things like television, cars, airplanes, microwaves…the list went on and on. At first, she had been reluctant to describe these things, but after seeing my fascination, her reluctance transpired.

By the time she finished her description of chairs that flew through the sky at the highest of speeds, we had reached our destination, and she was instantly silent.

It was a cave. My cave. I had been promising her since the wedding that I would bring her here. I had always been marveled by the beauty of the cavern, but I could only watch her as she took it in.

Its mouth stood over twenty feet high and in the setting sun, the sand embedded into its crevices sparkled like the smallest of diamonds. It sat alongside the cliff face of Belfalas. My boat was docked at the shore of the bay and we were far from any village.

I grabbed her hand and lean her inside. "I found this after my father let me sail by myself for the first time. I nearly crashed by boat on a reef, but managed to avoid it by hitting the shore instead. I often come here when I seek solitude."

Her head was tilted upward, admiring the stalactites that protruded from the ceiling. "South Carolina is against an ocean, but we lived further inland," she muttered, keeping her eyes upright. "Rachel, Kristen, and I had a friend who owned a house on the beach and we would visit there twice a year." She paused, looking at me for the first time since arriving here. "This friend, he was my…well we were courting, I guess."

This conversation was instantly serious and I certainly didn't expect to have it. I cleared my throat and chose my words carefully. "I had suspected there was someone before me."

She pulled her hand from mine and sat down in the sand. "Where I come from, courting is casual and rarely starts out with marriage as the goal when you're my age."

"So there was more than the one?" I asked calmly, sitting down beside her.

"It's…complicated. I know it's cliché, but it's true."

She looked so uncomfortable. She had pulled her good leg up against her chest and she hugged it close. Not often had I seen her wear trousers, but she had insisted today, not wanting to be saddled with skirts on the boat. It had been distracting to say the least, the way the fabric clung to her figure. My thoughts kept darting back to the conversation I had shared with Lothiriel at the wedding.

"Claire, I am pleased you would share your past with me," I said slowly, pulling my bag off my shoulders and setting it down beside me. "But it is the past and nothing you say will change how I feel about you in the present."

"I want to tell you," she said. "These past few days, you've shared basically everything of your past with me. I want to return the favor."

She spoke the truth. I had decided that there was nothing I wanted to keep secret from her, and I had told her of everything I could possibly think of. Every trip I ever made to a brothel, every childhood infatuation. She had been reluctant to reciprocate until now.

"It's hard for me to talk about," she said, clutching her leg even tighter to her chest. "We all went to school together at the University of South Carolina. His name was Brandon. And I loved him. I know I loved him."

"Did you leave him behind when you came here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I told you in Ithilian that there wasn't anyone and I didn't lie. Brandon…died a year before I came here. He had been planning to ask me to marry him after we graduated. He had already asked my dad's permission."

The sun was nearly set and it was growing dark, but I could still make out the glitter of a tear that slid down her cheek.

I wanted to hold her and give her comfort, but she clearly wasn't done. "I was a mess after he died. Rachel and Kristen tried their best, but they couldn't get through to me at first. And I delt with the loss on my own terms. I slept around thinking it would help me cope, but it didn't help. Eventually Rachel got through to me, though. I worked through it with her help and swore off casual sex.

"I haven't been in a relationship since Brandon. Not a healthy one, anyway. Then I was tossed into Middle-earth and Rachel and Kristen became so happy. When I realized I was jealous, I knew I had finally put Brandon's death behind me. But when I met you, I was scared."

"Why?" I asked.

"Many reasons, I guess. One was the sleeping around part. I knew I would have to tell you eventually, and I didn't want you to think I was a slut. And I didn't want to spoil this fantasy you had of me. The whole 'Lady of Fire' thing. At first I thought it was corny, but it's actually very flattering."

She was flirting with me, trying to see if things were okay. I wasn't happy with what she had told me, but I could not deny that my own sexual exploits were just as bad, if not worse.

When I didn't respond, she moved her hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks. "Will you be able to sail back in the dark?" she asked.

The sun had set completely now and our only source of light was the glow of the full moon leaking into the cave. Now that everything had been spoken between us, Lottie's voice sounded loud in my head and I couldn't take my sister's embarrassing advice now. It wouldn't be fair. "Normally I could, but the reefs are closer to the surface as the water level lowers when winter nears. I would need light to get us back safely."

She nodded, looking around the cave. "I can make a fire," she suggested, spotting the pile of wood I kept dry against the far wall.

I smiled, handing her my bag. "There's flint in one of the pockets. I'll go out to the boat and get supplies."

Walking back to the boat, I thought about how Lothiriel had said that there wasn't time for marriage and in the moment, I had agreed with her. And it was still true. My father's reaction to Claire's news had been unpleasant at first, mostly towards me. He held no resentment towards her since I had assured him from the start that I had been the one reluctant to share the truth and had continued to pursue her even after learning it myself.

Claire was always reluctant to share. And after hearing her story, I finally understood why. Two months ago, learning what I had just learned may have put me off. I honestly couldn't tell you what I would do. But I had learned better through my time spent with her.

It would not be fair to take Lottie's advice after learning what I had. Claire feared reverting back to what she had been after this Brandon's death. That was not hard to see. Perhaps she would not feel that way if we were to lay together, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. I wanted to prove that, as much as it may seem so to my family, this was not a passing infatuation. I loved her and that was true under whatever circumstances the Valar threw our way.

I just wasn't sure why they saw to take away my happiness before it actually began.

Back in the cave, Claire had a spark of flame going in a small circle and she was blowing on it softly, adding twigs and helping it grow. I threw the pack to the side and sat down beside her as she added bigger sticks. By the time the fire had grown, she was sitting back in her fetal position and silence enveloped the cave as I struggled to find the right thing to say.

She, however, was the one to break the silence. "You're mad, aren't you?"

I turned toward her. Her eyes were brimming with tears that were threatening to fall as she starred into the fire. I reached over and pulled her into my arms, letting her head rest on my shoulder. "No," I muttered into her hair. "No, Claire, I am not mad."

"But you're not happy either."

"I told you I had a feeling there was someone before me."

"There were a lot before you."

"You don't have to rub that it."

She pulled back, wiping away a tear that had escaped. "How can you not be angry?"

"I don't understand," I muttered. "Do you want me to be angry?"

"Two months ago, you threatened to kill a Rider who kissed your sister. Let's just say, this wasn't the reaction I expected."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. "What did you want me to do, Claire? I cannot cross the path to your former home and seek retribution in those men for your virtue. And even if I could, there are probably more important things than tracking down men I'm sure you want nothing to do with."

"Like what?" she countered.

"Like asking your family for forgiveness for acting on my own selfishness rather than listening to you back in Ithilian. Then, if I were to earn that forgiveness, ask permission to continue what we have been doing."

"That's not how it works where I come from," she defended, her sadness and confusion turning into anger. "If you have something you want to apologize for, Erchirion, you apologize to me. My family doesn't make my decisions for me, I do."

"You just said that that Brandon fellow had asked your father for permission to marry you."

"And even if my dad had said no, it still would have been my decision."

"Is that what you want to do? Make some kind of decision? Do you feel suffocated in this agreement that we have made?" I had done my best to control it, but the anger she seemed to be pursuing was rising inside me. "I have made very little decision in the two months we have known each other, Claire. You decided to enter courtship, you decided to follow me to my home, and you decided to tell my father the truth about your ailment. I'm sorry if it does not seem that way to you, but that is the reality."

She ran her hand through her hair again in that nervous fashion of her's before she spoke again. "After I was injured, I sat in Tom Bombadil's home for weeks wallowing. I thought I had lost everything. Then Tom told me to think of the things that I did have, rather than the things I had lost. It was hard, but after a while, I did as Tom suggested. I had the means to afford a place to live on my own while plenty in Bree went without homes. I had family and friends in nearly every corner of Middle-earth. Most importantly, I had not been entered into a death sentence.

"For a really long time I've been on my own. Not because I had no other choice, but because I thought that was what I wanted. I pushed myself away from my sisters. When I became too close with the Hobbits, I moved out of Tuckborough and into Bree. And now, for the first time in a long time, I'm not alone anymore and that scares me more than anything."

"I don't want this to be something you are scared of."

"I know," she insisted. "But I can't help it. The fact that your aunt disapproves of me or that I'm letting you down in some way…it's not something I've had to deal with in a long time."

"You could never let me down, Claire," I said, letting go of all the irrational anger. "You have never lied to me about your malady. You protected my sister even when she didn't deserve it. I had worried so much about your visit here as we traveled the road, but you've made these last two months the happiest of my life. And you shouldn't worry about what that old bat thinks of you. She would rather poison her own food than find something she admired in another person."

She let out a small laugh as she rested her cheek against her palm. "I'm sorry I turned this into a fight. I guess I had been bracing myself for one and looked for it when it didn't come."

"Why did you think I would be mad?" I asked.

"Éomer was pissed when Rachel told him about the one guy she had slept with before coming here. I guess I had expected you to lose it when I explained my way-worse situation."

I shifted my stance and turned to face her. "Two months ago, perhaps this knowledge would have brought out the anger in me."

"And why not now?"

I chose my words carefully before answering. "I had never been in love before I met you. There were many things about life I had yet to understand. For one, I've realized that there are far more important things to worry about then how the world perceives you. And falling in love with you, Claire, gives me a different perspective on life than any other man in Middle-earth. The preciousness of time, the balance and equality, and the forgiveness of mistakes of the past. How can I find anger at your situation when mine was worse? You loved that man and his death brought on a need for comfort wherever it could be found. But me? No ounce of love was present when I slept with tavern whores. It was a miracle you would forgive my actions, yet when I told you, you accepted it as simple fact. What kind of man would I be if I ignored this truth?"

She sat staring at the fire and her next statement was almost a whisper. "I always assume the worst in people."

"Why is that, do you think?" I asked tentatively.

"Because then you're never disappointed when the worst actually happens." She took a deep breath, running her hand though her hair, yet again. "But I shouldn't do that. Especially with you."

"What makes me so special?"

"I love you," she said simply.

Though she had implied it before, this was the first time she actually said the words to me. When they escaped her mouth, for a moment, I felt I could do nothing. My muscles would not move and I sat there, still as stone. And by the time my mind finally made sense of the words, I had all but thrown myself across the fire, landing beside my Lady of Fire, grabbing her face between my hands and pulling her into one of the deep kisses we often shared. I could feel her surprise beneath my lips but she soon softened, her right hand clutching at the wrist of my left, her thumb stroking the back of my hand. And when I pulled away, her bright blue eyes were sparking by the light of the fire, her hair shimmering in its glow. Memory brought me back to that first time I lay my eyes upon her in the Hall of Kings ablaze with the madness of Denathor, she the only pure thing left in the gallows of war.

"You truly love me?" I asked, her soft cheeks flushed red by the heat of the fire and our passion.

"I thought I was clear on that," she muttered with a smirk.

"Then marry me."

Her face did not hide the shock that came with my proposal, but I did not expect this to be simple. "Erchirion—,"

"I don't care about time. I don't care about right or wrong or what anyone else in the world will think of this. When I get back from Rhûn, I want no more time wasted. I wasted enough time with my own shyness and fear of rejection. I love you, Claire and if you'll have me, I will gladly spend your last days on Middle-earth as your husband."

She let out a small sigh, her thumb continuously stroking the back of my left hand. "Do you think your family will hate me if I insist on an extremely small wedding?"

I let out a breath of relief mixed with laughter as I lay my forehead against her own. "Damn them to Mandos if they ever decide against the woman I love."

* * *

-Claire-

"You're leaving?" Lothiriel nearly shrieked when I told her the news.

Imrahil and his sons had departed with the swan-knights and with Erchirion no longer here, I really didn't see a reason I should be either.

"I've had letters from Rachel and Kristen. Kristen is fine, of course. Minas Tirith is not so far away that Faramir can't ride to her aid if something went wrong. But Rachel…I had not thought to read between the lines of her letters until the one I received yesterday."

Ceorl, Rachel's messenger, had been delivering her letters throughout my time in Dol Amroth and I had only responded once. Yesterday, he delivered the response to that letter as well as some sound advice. "Lady Claire, when I return to Edoras, I will make to depart with the eoreds so that I may know where to find them in the east. King Elessar says the journey from Rhûn to Rohan is nearly three weeks there and back. I would ask, it you are planning a visit, to do so soon. I know it would do her good to see you in these times."

He had good reason to worry. Rachel's letters seemed fine on the surface, but there were very little pleasantries to hear. In this last one, she had written that Éomer had ridden back to Aldburg, leaving her in Edoras with Thèoden's council. She would never ask it of me, but I knew she needed me there with her. Her only friends in Edoras were in the First Eored and would be busy preparing. Frida and Hilda were in Aldburg and Maywen was in the Northmark.

"I'm sorry, Lothiriel, but I need to be with my sister now."

She seemed to not want to look me in the eye. "Am I not your sister?" she muttered.

Her voice was pained and I really didn't know what to say. After all, when Erchirion returned, she would be my sister, though he and I had agreed to keep the engagement a secret until he got back. I thought back to that day we first met in Ithilian, when she had first proposed the idea and I had immediately batted it away. Funny how things work out like that. "Lottie," I said, using her nickname for the first time. "You'll see me again, I promise. But you don't need me here. You have your father's council and Faramir in Minas Tirith. Not to mention Aranel and Beriana. Rachel has much less than you. She's the one who needs me."

"Why must you always do what you feel others need you to do?" she snapped, still put out. "How about doing what you want for a change?"

"This is what I want to do, Lottie," I said. "I don't wish to part in anger. Please, let me leave knowing we're on good terms."

She sat in silence for what seemed like an hour. Finally, she managed to speak. "I suppose Rachel has been your sister much longer than I. But I insist you take a guard with you. Erchirion asked Solumn to stay behind—,"

"I traveled Middle-earth for a year and a half without a guard."

"And look what happened to your leg," she countered. I rolled my eyes, but she persisted. "Really, Claire, it's not that big of an issue. Simply let Solumn follow along. He won't give you any trouble, I promise."

Reluctantly, I agreed and was soon back in my lavish chambers of Dol Amroth's castle. The sun was setting and I watched it descend over the crest of the water, turning the normal blue-green waves into a cascade of pink, orange, red, and yellow. I took in a deep breath, now so accustomed to the salty smell, it was difficult for me to detect it.

A knock sounded on the door behind me and I called, "Come in."

It was Silma, who came in every day at this time. "Milady," she said with a small curtsy. "Princess Lothiriel informed my sister that you are departing Dol Amroth on the morrow."

"That's right."

The girl shifted on her feet. "If it is not too impertinent, might I ask why?"

I smiled. This girl was really something. One minute I think she thinks I'm a hussy for sneaking around the palace with Erchirion, the next she seems sad to see me go. "My sister was crowned Under-king of Rohan, something she is not at all confident in. I wish to be by her side now."

Silma nodded. "I only ask for I worried you had not enjoyed your time here."

"Why would you think that?"

"Prince Erchirion seemed the only thing you were interested in. I did not think you cared for our food, culture, or lifestyle."

I laughed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "Silma, you couldn't be more mistaken. I adore it here. Granted, I do not live my life to nearly this high a standard and if it were not for Lady Ivriniel, I would have enjoyed every single minute. Unfortunately, sometimes the things we want are not always the things we can achieve."

The girl averted her eyes. "It is your leg, isn't it, milady?" I raised an eyebrow, but she didn't give me a chance to respond. "I…I saw it when you first arrived. I catch a glimpse of the wound nearly every day. My mother was a healer in Minas Tirith's Houses for many years. It…it is poison, isn't it, milady?"

Slowly, I nodded my head. "You're quite perceptive, aren't you?"

"I didn't mean to overstep my bounds—," she started.

"You didn't," I insisted. "It's just…I expect people to be put out with me when they find out, but all anybody ever seems to show is concern."

It was a few minutes before Silma responded. "Perhaps you should not expect the worst in people."

 _End of Book 3_

 _Cool, so Book 4 coming next week. I'm super excited. Happy Labor Day and please review! What do you guys want to see in Book 4?_


	39. Edhellond

_Book 4: Hǣl Se Cwēn_

 _Chapter 1: Edhellond_

 _Third Age, October, 3020_

 _Edhellond, Gondor_

-Claire-

"So…I like to travel fast," I said to the imposing swan-knight. "But taking the Dimult will shorten the trip to Rohan exponentially. Have you ever taken the Dimult?"

"I have never been to Rohan, milady," Solumn said curtly from atop his horse.

Solemn indeed.

And so, my trip from Dol Amroth began. Or rather, our trip. The opening of the Dimult was a blessing indeed, for it cut nearly three days off of our trip, allowing us to pass through the Erid Nimrais rather than ride around it. Of course, I would be missing Kristen and Faramir in east Gondor, but I was extremely anxious to see Rachel. Plus, in light of my secret engagement, I had decided more than one trip was in order.

We kept a basic schedule and made about forty miles that first day. I had hoped for fifty, but I had forgotten Solumn road a Gondorian horse, rather than Rohirric, like Arrod. Apparently, what meant fast to his horse was not what it meant for Arrod, who seemed able to go another fifteen, at least. But by sundown, Solumn's steed was obviously tuckered out.

I never knew for sure, but I had long suspected Arrod to have some Mearas blood in him. Nowhere near as much as Windfola, but somewhere down his line, he had that extra spark in him. It's why I had never tried to earn extra money in Bree through breeding him. Somehow, giving horses of Mearas blood to anyone who wasn't Eorlingas seemed like a betrayal, so I had never allowed it, no matter how many times the breeder in Bree had approached me when his mares were in heat.

I had planned to sleep on the ground, but, unfortunately, rain started to fall from the sky. It wasn't heavy, but it was enough that we needed shelter.

"We are nearly to Edhellond, milady. It is a small town, but friendly to Belfalas."

So we stayed in Edhellond, where, by chance, I met someone I did not expect.

Over dinner in the tavern, I got to talking with the innkeeper. After figuring out I worked for Butterbur in Bree, he even offered Solumn and I a discount. I was extremely pleased by this gesture. This was what those upper-class richies didn't understand about people who lived their lives as I did. It didn't matter if you made your coin in a tavern, a shop, or a stable. If you were a friend, or even a friend of a friend, people were willing to help you out. That's what I couldn't explain to Lothiriel. Wherever I went in Middle-earth, I always found an acquaintance because I had taken the time to get to know people without bragging about who I was.

I curled into the warm covers, unexpectedly happy to not have to sleep on the hard ground in the cold night. I was nearly asleep when…

Knock, knock, knock. What the hell? I groaned and crawled out of the bed grabbing the robe that sat at the foot and draping it over my shoulders. The ring Erchirion had given me for our engagement hung from a chain on my neck and I tucked it into the robe as well before opening the door.

"Solumn? What are you doing?" I nearly yelled. He had the hands of a man, whose face was obscured by a cloth and hood, behind the man's back. He looked like a Ranger of Ithilian.

"Caught this bastard picking the lock on your door, milady."

"'Milady'?" the Ranger said in an all-too familiar voice. "You have a personal body-guard, now?"

"Alanric?" I exclaimed, reaching over and pulling the cloth from his face. And I was right. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll gladly explain, if you release your dog."

"Solumn, let him go. He's an old friend of mine."

"An old friend who picks at your locks while you sleep?" he countered.

"I picked at the locks because I didn't know who you were," Al said, attempting to face Solumn. "Now that I understand your position, perhaps we could let bygones be bygones, swan-knight?"

Reluctantly, my guard let go of Al's wrists. When he didn't move, I raised an eyebrow.

"I'll wait out here, milady."

"You don't have to. I've known Alanric for a long time. He's a Ranger of the North and a friend of King Elessar. He even saved my life once."

Reluctantly, he nodded and retreated to his room, but I got the feeling he would be watching my door from a crack in his.

I waved Al into my room and hoped that the residents and travelers of Edhellond wouldn't think Al was here for anything other than good conversation.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked, sitting down on the bed.

"In Edhellond? I didn't. A friend of mine, Anborn, told me you were in Dol Amroth."

"Anborn? Faramir's Ranger?"

"My Ithilian cousins probably wouldn't care for you to insinuate that they belong to the Prince," Al joked. "But yes, that one. I had been on my way there when the innkeep told me he had met another person from the north. A tavern maid who worked at the Prancing Pony. And who else would that be?"

"Amaril?" I countered, naming Butterbur's former assistant.

"She and Kelleth are Valar knows where. Somewhere east, I think."

"So Kelleth really did it? He married the tavern whore?"

"That he did, much to our father's dismay. When Trover let it slip that Kelleth had also been fancied to your sister, the former consort of Rohan's heir, he was not happy Kel could only manage a former whore in the end."

"Still, I'm glad they're happy. They are happy, right?"

"I wouldn't know. They left after my father's harsh words. I haven't seen or heard from them since."

"And what of Trover?"

"Trover is with our friends in the east. Elessar called for aid from the Rangers and my father sent a party out to ride with him. My father was furious when I refused Elessar's call. I couldn't stand to be near him for any long period of time. So I thought I would seek out an old friend who has been absent much longer than she said she would be."

"I wrote to Butterbur," I defended.

"Which was how I knew to start my search for you in Ithilian. When you were not there, Anborn sent me to Dol Amroth. Interesting choice to visit the ocean. Does it call to you now, like an Elf ready to diminish?"

I laughed my way through that one, hoping that he would not question it further. Luckily, he didn't "So, you travel to Rohan, I assume. I would accompany you to Edoras, but I fear your sister may yet still hold animosity towards me. Between the not-so-pleasant words exchanged when we first met and my besting her with a sword, I am ever cautious when it comes to her. Even if these reasons are not true, I am sure I will forever remain an unpleasant reminder of my elder brother's impropriety."

"Rachel would love to see you," I assured him. "After all, you're the one who sent Erkenbrand after Éomer during that whole…shall we call it a debacle?"

He chuckled. "It is as good a word as any. But I fear I will not follow you there. Even if what you say proves true, Rohan has never quite agreed with me. No doubt I will end up rescuing another damsel in distress."

"You say that as if you do not enjoy it," I said with mirth. "So where will you go, then? To Ithilian?"

"Perhaps, for a time. After that, I'm not sure where my feet will take me. I suppose I will stay in Gondor. It is not often I make it this far south. In getting to know you, my sense of adventure seems to have been rekindled for good."

"I doubt it ever faded, my friend." I paused, taking in his figure before reluctantly parting. "I look forward to our paths crossing again, Alanric. But until then, I wish you well in your travels."

"I should be off," he agreed. "No doubt your guardsman will be here any minute to see if I've stolen the virtue of his master's consort."

 _A/N: Don't get too excited. The only reason I stopped posting on the regular was because of my classes basically taking over my life. I just got back from fall break where I got caught up on a few chapters of a long overdue fanfiction. I do wanna thank everyone for not rushing me and being patient. I don't think I'll be able to keep up with a regular schedule, though, but I hope this is enough for now._


	40. Revelations

_Chapter 2: Revelations_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age 3020, October_

-Rachel-

A week and a half in and, surprisingly, I was doing just fine. Nothing had gone to shit, nothing had been destroyed. Looks like Rohan was tougher than I gave her credit.

The hardest part was not having Éomer here with me. Claire had promised to come after the swan-knights departed Dol Amroth, but she still had yet to show her face. I also couldn't shake the guilt that her birthday had been five days ago and I had not sent a thing her way.

Kristen's letters continued to come with surprising speed. My messenger, Ceorl, had gone with the eoreds to know their location before he could start delivering letters to and from Rhûn. Unfortunately, it was nearly a three-week journey to get there and another three to return. That meant I would have to wait just less than six weeks between letters to even know what the hell was going on there. For the first time since the War of the Ring, the lack of easy communication was annoying me again. With no cellphones or e-mail or even carrier pigeons, word from the lines would be slower than snails. Not to mention what I would do if something went wrong here. I would have to make a decision without Thèoden's express permission or approval. Gah! I hated this.

My days were filled much like Thèoden's had been. Sitting behind his desk and listening to the things the advisors had to tell me. Evenings were free reign, though, for which I was grateful. If not for Aaryn and the normalcy she brought to my life, I would have stood in front of my own bow weeks ago.

I was allowed more free time than I thought I would be, however. The advisors (suggested this by Fingran, I'm sure) let me out every few days to teach classes. An entire legion of women had gone with the eoreds, most of which I had trained myself. And every day that passed, more and more women wanted to learn to at least carry a knife, sword, or bow in an attempt to learn how to defend themselves. And so, I had an entire new group of students I was teaching. Rimbon, who had been stationed in Edoras as part of my guard, joined in the teachings often enough. I didn't mind. His good looks were something of a bribe to the women to get them returning for the classes. However, as it had been with Lothiriel, he paid most of them no mind.

My best student was by far a girl of sixteen named Helisa. If it were up to me, she'd be named a Shieldmaiden. Her talents would bring her far. Every day she improved. She was a master rider, her sword skills were greatly rising, and she had a natural knack for the bow.

It had been during one of these lessons in the barracks when Dormund, my recently named doorward in Thèoden's absence, came running with a message.

"My lady, there is someone in the hall asking for you."

"Who is it?"

"A woman, attended by a swan-knight of Dol Amroth."

Instantly, my head perked up. "Is she blonde?"

"Yes, my lady."

I sheathed my sword and called for Rimbon to continue without me, running from the barracks and up Meduseld's steps two at a time. I opened the door and Claire was there, a familiar looking guard standing to her side.

"You're here!" I practically screamed, running into her arms.

"I said I would be. Have I ever broken a promise?"

"I worried, though. Your letter made it sound like Lothiriel had you under lock and key."

She grinned. "Lottie is an interesting creature. When it comes to commanding Dol Amroth in her father's absence, she is the perfect diplomat and ruler. It's when she's let off that leash, she turns slightly childish. Really, I can't see how Éomer ever would have married her, even if it would have been arranged."

I side-glanced at her guard. The fact that Lothiriel and Éomer were supposed to wed was not something I necessarily wanted spread around the kingdom I was currently ruling.

"Don't worry about Solumn," Claire said, noticing my glace. "Erchirion is the only one he would tell and he already knows."

My stomach clenched. "Erchirion knows?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Did you expect me to keep secrets from him? How do you think I figured out that Imrahil wanted it arranged?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter, I guess. I just don't want Thèoden's advisors to hear about it. They hate me enough as it is."

She instantly looked concerned. "Do they really hate you or are you still determined to self-deprecate?"

"I suppose they don't all hate me. Dorwine thinks my math could be greatly improved and Hemonbold…well, there's no swaying his opinions. Fingran, though. He seems to like me well enough."

"Which one is Fingran? I know you mentioned him in your letters, but I couldn't keep track of the entire council."

I was about to answer when a voice stopped me. "I am Fingran, Lady Claire."

Claire jumped but I was used to the way the advisors liked to sneak up on me in Meduseld. "Lord Fingran," I greeted, nodding my head. "This is my sister, Claire Elliott."

Claire had composed herself and held out her hand. Fingran's old and wrinkled counterpart took it and grasped it gently. "I had the pleasure of greeting Lady Kristen at the wedding, but I believe you are the sister that escaped me."

She smiled at my advisor. "I hope Rachel hasn't done anything too drastic to destroy the Mark," she joked.

Fingran laughed. "Lady Rachel is an asset to Rohan, my lady, and I am forever grateful to serve her."

"Okay," I said, wanting this over as soon as possible. "Fingran, I know we have a meeting in an hour. I will try to be on time, but seeing as how my kin has only just arrived, try not to bludgeon me if I'm late."

"Of course, my lady. Please see to your family. Perhaps I could show this swan-knight to the barracks? There is plenty of room now that the eoreds have left."

The swan-knight looked like he wanted to protest, but Claire didn't give him the chance. "Yes. Solumn, you should take a break. You've gotten no sleep since we left Edhellond."

"That is because Edhellond was supposed to be a place of refuge and rest. Instead, I had to see you safe from a thief and trespasser."

She rolled her eyes. "Rachel, please tell this stubborn swan-knight that Alanric is a good person."

"You saw Alanric?" I asked.

"I ran into him in Edhellond. Solumn here nearly broke his arm when he tried to get into my room."

Fingran raised an eyebrow, but Solumn wasn't finished. "Milady Claire, with all due respect, I was tasked with your protection by Prince Erchirion and Princess Lothiriel. When a suspicious man sporting a covered face picks the lock of your door, you cannot expect me not to intervene."

"No, but I can expect you to trust me when I tell you that he meant no harm and when I invited him into that room, all we did was talk. I haven't seen him nor his brothers in months. I could do without your judgement."

Solumn's face was staring to turn a violent shade of red and I decided it was enough. "Fingran, I think showing Solumn to the barracks would be a great idea. Rimbon is leading a lesson in there right now, but it should be over soon."

"Thank you, my lady."

I pulled Claire through the door that lead to the living quarters. "Jesus Christ, that dude's a piece of work. Does Erchirion really think you need a guard?"

"I think having a guard makes him more comfortable with all of my traveling. If Merry had stayed with me, I'm sure Solumn wouldn't be here. Well, Lothiriel would have pushed it, but without a companion, I had little to argue my way out."

"You only took the Dimult Road. How much trouble could you possibly get into?"

"Don't ask me to explain how Lothiriel's brain works."

We had reached the door of one of the larger unoccupied rooms. Claire normally liked to stay in the less extravagant part of the Golden Hall, but since there were no guests and plenty of space this time around, I figured having her near my room, which was only two doors down, would be fine with her.

"Besides," she continued as we entered the room. "I'm not staying for too long. There's some things I need to do up north."

I tried to hide my disappointment. She only just got here! "What kind of things?"

"I need to speak to Elrond. Plus, my things are still in Bree. Since I'm no longer working for him, I doubt Butterbur will want to hang on to my stuff for me."

"You're not working at the Prancing Pony anymore?"

She shook her head and sat down on the bed. "The north…there's little reason for me to stay. The Hobbits all have their own lives back in order and working at a tavern doesn't boat well when dating a Prince of Gondor."

"Who told you that?" I asked.

"Ivriniel," she muttered. "Imrahil's sister. She doesn't care for me much."

"Who cares what she thinks?"

"I do," she admitted. "I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. My worst fear staying in that city was that they would all think I had somehow deceived Erchirion with my leg, no matter what the motivation may be. At first, Imrahil was not too happy, but he got over it. And their approval was…I don't know. I can't explain it. But Ivriniel…there's no winning her over completely, but if I can cut out some of the problems, maybe being around her will be easier."

"You shouldn't have to change who you are to please his family," I muttered. "Least of all, his aunt."

"I'm not changing. I would have to quit eventually and this way, Butterbur can find a replacement. I'm not me because I work in a tavern. Ivriniel can't change me."

"But what about Erchirion?"

She sat on the bed, looking at her hands. "I feel as if I changed the minute I met him."

I shook my head. "Middle-earth changed us, Claire, not our boyfriends. But let's be honest, we weren't exactly gems before we got here."

"I told Erchirion," she muttered. "About Brandon…and everything else. He didn't get mad like I thought he would. I…I don't really know what he thinks of the whole thing."

"There's something you're not telling me," I said. Claire only muttered like that when she was nervous and I could tell she was keeping something secret.

She paused for a moment before reaching into the neck of her shirt and pulling out a chain. At the end of the necklace was a ring that appeared to be the heads of two swans meeting at a blue sea stone. "Wait," I muttered, my eyes widening "That's not—"

"An engagement ring? Cause it is."

I nearly jumped out of the chair to pull her into a congratulatory hug before I noticed her somber expression. "Why do you look so unhappy?"

She rolled her eyes. "Take a wild guess."

I didn't have to guess. I knew what it was and I knew this was hurting her. She had fallen in love with the Swan Prince, even agreed to marry him. And as much as everyone told her it would be okay in the end, it wasn't. It would never be okay. And I understood that now.

I had helped convince her to sacrifice what time she had left in desire of her happiness without realizing the rest of her life would be spent away from the man she had fallen in love with.

Man, I suck.

 _Please Please Please Review!_


	41. Questions

_Chapter 3: Questions_

 _Third Age, 3020 October_

 _Rivendell_

-Claire-

Rachel didn't really have time for me in Edoras, what with council meetings every day and the classes she had to teach in the barracks. Staying in Edoras was turning out to be lonelier than Dol Amroth.

It didn't surprise her when I started packing three days later. Winter was nearing and I was hoping to beat the weather to Rivendell. Solumn was ecstatic to go, though he didn't really show it. I could just tell. Scary how that was happening.

Solumn fared well on the road. I had no reason to doubt him, of course, but I found that I didn't mind traveling with a companion. Sure, he didn't talk much, but at least I wasn't by myself.

About a week into the trip north, something changed. The solemn Swan Knight asked me a question.

"I do not wish to pry, my lady, but why are we riding to the Elven realm? You told Princess Lothiriel you would be staying in Rohan."

"I have something I need to discuss with Lord Elrond that cannot be conveyed in a letter," I answered simply.

"It is about my Prince Erchirion, is it not?" the guard asked.

"When you said you didn't mean to pry, you actually meant to pry, didn't you?"

That actually earned a smile from the guard. "You may find this hard to believe, my lady, but I am a man with feelings. While I have been happy to keep your escapades with my prince a secret, I cannot help but worry for a future where you will inevitably leave him. I know you have tried to prepare him for it, and he works to prepare himself, but I fear it will not be enough in the end."

It was undoubtedly the longest set of words I'd ever heard come out of his mouth. And suddenly, what seemed like a trip to Rivendell to chase the wind was suddenly that much more important. "That's why we're headed to Rivendell, Solumn."

* * *

Perhaps the best part of the trip was Solumn's face as the famed Elven city came into view. "Ulmo's waves, this is a sight," I heard him whisper, bringing a smile to my face.

"Long time no see, Lady Claire," a familiar voice called from the gate. "We were expecting you months ago."

"Well, I'm back now, Elladan," I called back. "Where is Elrohir?"

"No doubt doing things more fun than guarding an often-ignored gate." The Elf had left his perch and was opening said gate for my entrance. "Since when do you travel with Swan Knights?" he whispered as he walked Arrod into the city, too low for Solumn to hear.

"It's a long story. One I need to tell your father."

"I've sent a messenger up to him. You must be tired after your journey. Did you come from Dol Amroth?"

"Rohan. I popped in to see Rachel."

Suddenly, Elladan's face was saddened as he led me through, Solumn behind us, still gaping at the city. "I have not seen your sister since her last visit to Imaldris. How fares she?"

I managed a small smile. "She is…better. I think marrying Éomer helped put her at ease, but she's struggled with it a bit the past few months. Who could blame her though, really, what with Kristen's son being born and the fact that Éomer and Thèoden rode to war leaving her in charge. She never wanted to be Queen, Elladan, but now she's been forced into it much too soon."

The Elf nodded. "I cannot imagine the pain of what she endured. She is a special creature, that sister of yours. Not that you aren't just as remarkable, Lady Claire," he added as if it were an afterthought, not a complement.

We had reached his father's house and he looked apologetic. "I fear I must be an ungracious host. I have left the gate unguarded, but you know the way. Our swan-knight can follow me to the barracks houses."

"I think I'll stay with milady, Lord Elf," Solumn muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "I highly doubt anything bad will happen to either of us under Lord Elrond's roof, Solumn. Just give me some breathing space. Explore the city for a bit. I don't know how long we'll be here. You should see it while you can."

He looked reluctant, but decided to comply as Elladan pointed him in the direction of the barns and barracks and he took Arrod's reins.

"I hope to see you at evening meal, Claire?" Elladan asked.

"I hope so. I miss you and Elrohir more than one would think."

If Elves could blush, I'm sure Elladan would've tainted red, but he simply bowed and headed back for the gate. I made my way through the house and up to Elrond's study, the door of which was open and welcoming in these few weeks before the weather turned bitterly cold.

Elrond stood by the door to the balcony, waiting on me. He looked happy to see me as I approached, holding out his hand to grasp my own. "My dear Claire. I thought I would hear from you any day now, be it through correspondence or in the flesh. I must admit, I'm pleased it is the latter."

"It is good to see you, my lord," I said, letting him lead me to a chair, beside which I rested my cane and planted my butt.

He sat across from me, looking less pleased than before I opened my mouth. Elrond's gift of foresight was compromised after the destruction of the One Ring, but he could still read people as if they were books. He must have sensed the nervousness in my voice. No surprise as I anticipated our conversation to not go well at all.

"What is it you wish to speak with me, child?" he asked. "It is obvious this is not simply a social visit."

I cleared my throat and forced my hand still at my side. I had developed a nervous habit of gently stroking my thigh where the arrow wound was and Elrond knew it. "Have you had any correspondence with Arwen lately?" I asked.

"She is my daughter. Her letters frequent the gate of Imaldris. Why? Has something happened?"

"No. Not with Arwen," I said quickly. "It's, well, I thought she would tell you—,"

"That she is with child? Of course she has told me."

Crap. That had totally slipped my mind. Of course Arwen has better things to write her father than my romantic endeavors. "Not that," I clarified. "Lord Elrond, I know I'm to sail with the Last Ship but…what if I wanted to bring a companion?"

The Elf looked confused. "Has something happened to one of your sisters? I hear of good tidings from Kristen in Gondor and I was under the impression Rachel was recovering from her miscarriage."

"It's not my sisters I speak of," I said slowly.

There it was. Now he understood. And he wasn't happy. "Explain," he said simply.

"I…met someone. And I know it was selfish of me to pursue it and I tried to make what I was feeling go away, but it wouldn't. And…I want him to come with me."

"Who is this man?"

"Prince Erchirion of Dol Amroth," I muttered.

The old Elf let out a sigh. "I understand why you asked me of Arwen. She did write to me of love brewing in Belfalas but did not elaborate. But Claire, I cannot grant you what you ask."

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "Why not?"

"Men cannot travel to the Undying Lands. Men are not immortal creatures."

"But Frodo and Bilbo are coming with us."

"They are granted passage by the Valar as Ring-bearers. You and your sisters are granted passage because you are simply visiting this world. And you are welcomed visitors, to be sure, which is why they are letting you choose when to depart."

"But I don't get to choose," I protested.

For the first time, sympathy crossed his face. "No, you do not. And that is not fair, this test the Valar have given you. I will not deny it. But Men do not have the right to the Undying Lands. Iluvatar made it so when the King of Numenor made a claim on the lands he did not have the right to make."

"If all paths are shaped by the Valar and Iluvatar," I muttered. "Then why would they do this to me?"

Elrond let out a sigh. "That question cannot be answered by me. As I said, I can only assume it is a test. A test of the highest quality. Why you are the one they have chosen to test, I know not. But Erchirion of Dol Amroth cannot come with you. And why would you ask him to? He cannot return. He has family he cannot abandon."

"You're right," I agreed, staring down at my hands. "I knew you would say these things, but I had to try. And you should believe me when I say that everything you've said, I've already said to myself. It was people like your daughter who only wished for my happiness that encouraged me to pursue this relationship."

"Perhaps there is something to be learned from this. What that is, I know not, but it should reveal itself in time."

I let out a deep sigh. "If only I had time."

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	42. Letters

Chapter 4: Letters

Yuletide, 3020

Edoras, Rohan

-Rachel-

One delivery. That's all I had gotten from the campaign in Rhûn in two months. One stinking delivery. It was a bundle of letters. About a dozen from Éomer and one from Aragorn.

Okay, so maybe I'm frustrated, but this lack of communication thing was incredibly infuriating to the twenty-first century girl in me. Why had I not done research on how to train a carrier pigeon back on Earth? Oh yeah, because that's something your typical college junior does.

Jeeze, I needed to get out of Meduseld. My sarcasm game was too strong.

* * *

 _Dearest Rachel,_

 _We have been on the road for three days now, and the further east we travel, the more the feeling of foreboding grows in my mind. But we must accomplish what Aragorn says. He has not been easy on Uncle and me in these first few days of travel. He thinks we were wrong to insist you stay behind, but this you already knew. I know this is not what you would wish to hear, but it is what I hear on my travels. Perhaps telling you will make it seem like you are here._

 _Éomer_

* * *

 _My love,_

 _It is warmer here. Too warm for October. The winds should be blustering and attempting to rip me from Firefoot's saddle. Alas, the sun has different plans the further we get to the East. Speaking of my steed, I believe he misses you. A Gondorian squire was brushing him down and the beast tried to chew his dark hair like he does to you. I fear you have spoiled him with too many apples and carrots._

 _But he is not the only spoiled one. No, in your absence I find it hard to sleep at night without your cold toes poking at my legs. Removing my armor is more of an arduous task now that you are not there to help me. The stew brewed in pots at our campsites is nowhere near as good as yours._

 _Do you feel these same things now that I am not there? Are your toes too cold at night? Do you find pleasant conversation in the day's ending?_

 _It is odd to be surrounded by hundreds of men and still feel so lonely._

 _Éomer_

* * *

 _Rachel,_

 _Did you know that Erkenbrand smuggled in liquor? No, of course you wouldn't, but I am sure you are not surprised. When I asked him why, he insisted it would make sleeping in the foreign lands easier. You know I do not often leave the Mark, but I never have trouble sleeping. It is being awake that bothers me. Did you have this problem when you landed in Middle-earth? I find it amazing that I still have questions I feel that I must ask._

 _Éomer_

* * *

 _Love,_

 _I apologize that my letters are so brief. I seem to be jotting down the last of my thoughts by the light of the campfire before I turn in for the night. We are nearing Rhûn and will arrive any day now. Will battle be waiting for us at our arrival or will the Easterlings plan their attack after sizing our numbers? Alas, Aragorn predicts nothing. Uncle is as skeptical as I am._

 _I would prefer the onslaught. Get this over with before it even starts._

 _Éomer_

* * *

 _Rachel,_

 _At Aragorn's insistence, I've been spending time with the sons of Prince Imrahil. Of the three, Erchirion seems to be the most weary of battle. From what I understand, he spends much of his time at the helm of a ship rather than on land with the rest of us "scallywags". The eldest, Elphir, is a battle-worn fellow and the one I know the most from the Ring War. I remember him from Morannon. Amrothos is a pleasant fellow, though reluctant to be away from his new wife. I find a kindred spirit in the youngest Dol Amroth prince. But I know it would be of best interest to befriend Erchirion, for Claire's sake._

 _He does not talk of her much, but from what I can tell, he truly loves your sister. Like me, he is up most nights, penning her small scratches before his rest. Of course, most men here partake in that but it is odd for one simply in courtship. Have you seen Claire? Does she feel the same? Bema's beard, it is frustrating not being able to just ask you. To wait six weeks for your reply? It is simply too long._

 _Éomer_

* * *

 _Rachel, my friend,_

 _As I'm sure both your king and your husband have informed you, I desperately wanted you here. I do not think it will be a dangerous trip and we would have benefitted simply with your presence. Though, I must admit, the legion of women you trained and sent are nearly as skilled as yourself. Éomer tells me the training continues in his and Thèoden King's absence and this pleases me. I have instructed Faramir to guide willing women in Gondor as well, though there are many less in my country willing to learn, unfortunately. I know you are busy with the duties of the Under-king but I'm sure Faramir would benefit from your assistance._

 _I hope it was not out of line, but Éomer also spoke to me of your reluctance to the throne. I wish I could advise you in person, my friend, but a letter will have to do for now._

 _If you will recall, I did not want the throne either. I exiled myself, denied my connection to it for many years. But I knew the responsibility I had when the war had ended. When I met you that day on the plans of the Riddermark I did not know the war would end with my crowning. But you did, didn't you?_

 _Fate is an interesting thing. Kristen and I have spoken about such things in the past and she tells me you do not believe in fate. But it is a true thing, my friend. We were all meant to do something. And you, Bowmaiden, should not doubt your fate of Rohan's Throne._

 _I shall say no more on the matter, for I fear you will ignore me if I do. We entered the borders of Rhûn yesterday and still, no attack has come. Ceorl will be leaving on the morrow to deliver letters to you in Edoras though it will be nearly three weeks until this parchment reaches you._

 _Hopefully, this is the last you will hear from me. I would hate to have to write you with bad news. Please take what I said to heart._

 _In friendship,_

 _Aragorn Elessar_


	43. Assassin

Chapter 5: Assassin

Edoras, Rohan

Third Age 3021, February

-Rachel-

I had sent my replies to those letters with Ceorl over five weeks ago. No doubt the responses would be here soon, but that didn't make me any less agitated. Claire had yet to return to Rohan. I had thought she might return for Yuletide celebrations, but I hadn't seen her since she left with that swan-knight of her's, nor had she sent any word of where she was. Lothiriel's reasons for insisting she take a guard with her now made much more sense to me, however. It seemed unlikely that anything would happen with that moody guard of her's.

As for me, life went on. Advisors had me practically glued to Thèoden's desk with papers and invoices; notes on food, money, and trade. Speaking of that last one, Faramir, in his running of Minas Tirith, had insisted on upping the White City's trade with Edoras which resulted in what we were hoping would become an every-two-month-market in Rohan's capital. The market was where I spent my afternoon with Aaryn, Fingran, and Thalion.

Edoras had been greatly rebuilt since the Ring War. Of course, it had almost been two years since the end of that awful time and Thèoden had helped Edoras not only back to its previous state, but also to improvement.

Aaryn had encouraged me to get out of Meduseld and the barracks claiming it had been too long since I simply relaxed. Fingran had agreed, thinking a stroll through the markets would clear my head. And maybe he had been right since my mind kept drifting back to papers and Thèoden's study no matter what stall we happened to pass.

I had Thalion on a leash and my dog had decided it was his duty to lead us from stall to stall. In fact, we really didn't see much more than food stalls. Even one from Dol Amroth sporting an array of salty-smelling sea delicacies.

Aaryn's mother had set up a stall, hoping to attract some business. My frequent visits to her shop had drawn so much attention to the small store that I wondered how she could handle all of the extra business.

"I just don't understand how your mother's business grows simply because I shop there," I said to Aaryn.

"It is an occupational hazard, I'm afraid, my lady," Fingran said. "In fact, every stall you have stopped at today has grown in attention."

"But I haven't bought anything yet."

"Royals give attention, the people tend to listen," he said, a small grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not royal."

The old advisor let out a sigh. "You are a royal, my lady. I wish you would stop denying it."

I let out a huff but didn't argue the point. Lucky for me, Thalion had sniffed out yet another food stall.

Unlucky for me, no one saw what happened next coming.

Thalion was tugging me though the crowd of people. I had been trying to teach him how to heel and it hadn't been going very well. In the bustle of it all, I barely heard a man's voice cry, "Lady Rachel!" before it happened. A large body plowed into my own and my hand lost its grip on Thalion's leash. On the way down, the large person grunted as he landed on top of me. Women were screaming and I couldn't move as I was pinned by the large body.

"Rimbon!" I shouted, identifying the man who had pulled me to the ground. "What in Bema's rear-end were you thinking?"

But then I saw it. The arrow sticking out of his shoulder, piercing him though his chainmail.

My head darted to the rooftops, thinking that the only place an assailant could have struck. There was no one there. Rimbon and the rest of my guard had been tailing me and I could spot only one of them now. The others must have gone after whoever did this.

"Are you hurt, milady?" Rimbon muttered from behind gritted teeth.

"Am I hurt? You just got shot!"

"It's a flesh wound. You've treated these before."

"Rimbon, you could have been killed!"

"That is my job, milady. I saw the bastard on a rooftop, his bow aimed at your heart."

I wanted to argue that he should have let me die, but what good would that do? At least he was alive. At least we both were. If he had died…Gods, I don't know if I could have handled that.

"Fingran," I called to the advisor. He looked shaken, but his years of service shown one his face. He lived through Grima Wormtongue. He could handle this. "Rimbon needs a stretcher. He should be taken to Meduseld. Where's Aaryn?"

"She ran after your lurcher, my lady. I'll send for a stretcher."

I nodded, helping Rimbon onto his back. He winced with the movement in his shoulder, the arrow's fletching sticking out like a nasty flag. But his eyes landed on my face and he chuckled.

"This isn't funny," I quipped.

"Tis your face, milady. You look…well, angry."

"My guardsman just got shot and we don't have the perpetrator. Yes, I'm angry."

"But not because there was an attempt on your life?"

"I haven't made it that far yet," I said, earning another chuckle.

"We'll catch the bastard, milady," Wulfgard, the Rider who had remained behind said. "He couldn't have gotten far. Rimbon wasn't the only one who saw him."

"Did you see him, Wulfgard?" I asked.

"Nay, milady. Tis why I stayed behind."

I nodded. The people in the market square were calming down now, and Wulfgard looked anxious as a few started to approach me and Rimbon.

Many of these people were not of Edoras, nor of Rohan. After all, it was market day and many of them were travelers from Gondor. A few were even from Dale. Lucky for me, Fingran and the stretcher arrived, along with two stable hands to help carry Rimbon to Meduseld.

"My lady, we should get you inside the Golden Hall," Fingran insisted.

"Not until Aaryn or the assassin is found. I'll not leave her out here alone."

"A wise choice, Under-king," a new voice said. A man clad in black and maroon robes over chainmail and a breastplate stood in the shadow of a building. His clothes contrasted vastly to the dusting of snow flurries on the ground. His face was obscured by a maroon cloth, albeit his eyes, dark and cold. Worst of all, against his breastplate, Aaryn was held there, a knife to her throat.

"Tis a pity that I may spill such pretty blood," he taunted. "But without any collateral for my life, one must make the best of a tight situation."

"What do you want?" I asked, giving Aaryn a hard stare. _Keep calm, don't freak out_.

The Easterling's eyebrow raised. "Is it not simple? Call off your guardsmen. Clearly, I have been bested in my mission, but I will not go down alone. If they advance, your friend is dead."

"She's not my friend," I lied, praying this would work. "She's my handmaiden. Just a pawn—," but I was cut off as he pressed the knife harder on Aaryn's throat.

"You're eyes betray you, Under-king. That is the price you pay for keeping your loved ones so close. One day, they may be taken from you. Just look at your King and his brat nephew. Perhaps you should have kept them a bit closer, though. They might have been better off."

"He lies," Wulfgard snarled. "Milady, he attempts to trick you. Do not fall for it."

But I couldn't listen. What was I supposed to do? This Easterling had Aaryn by the throat and claimed something had happened to Éomer and Thèoden. Uncle and Fingran had prepared me for so much, but they had never prepared me for this. What was the protocol? Who would save her? Should I just let him go?

Before I could even get my thoughts straight though, circumstances changed in my favor. Out of nowhere, an arrow pieced the Easterling's arm, causing him to drop his knife. Aaryn made a run for it, landing into Wulfgard as the remainder of my guardsmen made for the assassin, ripping the arrow from his arm and tying his hands behind his back.

My head whipped backwards landing on a familiar face. Helisa, my star pupil, had her bow at her side, a look of satisfaction on her face. Oh, that girl was getting a super big to-be-determined prize after all this.

The people in the square had been so silent, you could have heard a pin drop. Now, they had started bustling. Wulfgard was supporting a still-terrified Aaryn as he walked over to me. "We must get you into Meduseld quickly, milady. The Easterling is being taken to the dungeons."

I nodded, moving quickly behind the Riders that had the Easterling secured. Helisa was still watching the scene with her bow at her hip. I didn't know how I was going to repay the young maiden, but I would see to it as soon as I figured out what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Back at the Golden Hall, the advisors were in a frenzy.

"You won't be going to the markets any more, my lady," Dorwine said, pacing the room.

"We can't keep the Under-king a prisoner in her own Hall," Fingran said.

"It is not her Hall!" Hemonbold shouted, earning a few chaste looks from the rest of the room. He cleared his throat and turned to me. "Forgive me, my lady."

"Look," I said, keeping my breathing slow and deep in an attempt to sway the headache I felt coming. "Obviously, we're never going to agree on anything. So, let's put it aside until we've all calmed down a bit." I turned to Fingran. "What do we do about the Easterling?"

"He'll need to be questioned, though it is highly unlikely he will say anything. But he will have to be executed."

I felt the twisting sensation in my stomach clench at his solution. "Is that really necessary?"

All of them looked at me in shock. Even Hemonbold was surprised. "My lady," he said. "That foreigner tried to murder you in the middle of the market square. Our laws are strict on this matter."

"And I can assure you," Fingran said. "That Thèoden King would not hesitate for a moment on this matter. Were communication easier, I'm sure he would sentence the assassin's life, especially since you were the target."

"But execution?" I muttered, wrapping my arms around my chest. "It seems so…barbaric."

"It is the only way to impose justice," Dorwine said. "Let this slide and more will take his place. He must face the consequences of his actions. It is not barbaric, it is enforcement."

I had never really given capital punishment much thought. Of course, I knew it happened here, but I had never been party to it. I had never had to give the "okay". Back home, it happened, but I had never even stepped in that territory. Yeah, the guy had tried to kill me. Yeah, I was pissed. But I could think of crimes much worse than this. Was this really a thing to warrant a man's death? It wasn't even an eye-for-an-eye situation. He didn't kill anybody.

"My lady," Fingran said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "I understand that this is not something you were prepared for. We do not have to make the call just yet. Perhaps you can sleep on it and we will discuss it further in the morning."

I nodded, thanking him with my eyes. "The girl who shot the Easterling in the market? Her name is Helisa. She's one of my pupils. I would see her rewarded for her aid," I said to Dorwine. He was the royal treasurer and in charge of that kind of stuff.

"Of course. And what would the reward be?"

I hadn't really thought of that. "Let's call her to the Hall and ask her."

Dorwine nodded and walked out of the study. As he left, Wulfgard was at the other side of the door.

"What is it, Wulfgard?" Hemonbold asked, ushering in the Rider.

"Rimbon is in recovery, milady," he said, stepping into the room. "The arrow missed anything important. The healers say he should be fine by the morning."

"That's a relief," I said, slumping back in my chair. Rimbon's wellbeing had not been lost from my mind. I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to him. "How is Aaryn?"

"Shaken, but that is to be expected. I escorted her to her mother's house. Mistress Gillwen was in a great distress but we managed to calm them both down. I sent Gareth to stay with them for the night. I hope that is fine?"

"It's a good idea, Wulfgard. I'll check on them in the morning. Aaryn doesn't need to come back to Meduseld until we've taken care of the Easterling."

"I will let her know, milady."

With a small bow, he exited the room. I still wasn't okay with any of this by a long shot.

"My lady," Fingran muttered. "What is on your mind?"

He wasn't gonna like it. "I want to talk to him," I said.

"Who?" Hemonbold asked, but he knew exactly who I meant.

"The Easterling."

"Absolutely not," Fingran said.

"If it were Thèoden in my place, he wouldn't have even asked."

"You may be Under-king, but you are not the King."

"And if it were Éomer sitting in my place, you would not deny him either. I want to talk to him, Fingran."

"Why is that?" he demanded.

"Because if I'm going to sign the man's death warrant, I'm going to at least know his name first!" I shouted, rising from my chair.

The old advisor looked taken aback by my abruptness. Hemonbold looked amused. I took a deep breath and steadied myself. "The fact of the matter is, you can't keep me from talking to him. He is behind bars and cannot hurt me. I'm going down there. When Helisa gets here, please send for me."

I marched out of the room and made my way to a part of Meduseld I had never entered. I never had any need to go to the dungeons. Any prisoners Rohan had housed since the war were unimportant to me. In fact, it never even crossed my mind that I would ever have to come down here.

It was dank. Dank, wet, and cold. The floor was simply solid earth, too cold to dig through. The cells were made from iron. Rohirrim didn't often work with iron outside of weaponry, so I knew these bars meant business. The area was lit by torches. And there was only one other person there with me.

I saw his face for the first time. His pitch-black hair fell over his shoulders in untamed curls. His beard was thick and just as black as the rest of his hair. A white cloth had been haphazardly wrapped around the arrow wound in his bicep. When he noticed me, his brown eyes jolted in my direction, surveying me as I was surveying him. His breastplate had been taken as well, revealing a thin body.

He nodded his head in my direction. "Under-king," he greeted.

I grabbed a small, wooden stool and carried it closer to the Easterling, taking a seat upon it. "Do you even know my real name?"

"Excuse me?"

"My name. You've only addressed me as Under-king."

"They call you Rachel, do they not? A strange name. And a strange title you bear. Bowmaiden. Does the title live up to its name, though? Women in my land do not handle weaponry. Are you as good as your people boast?"

I crossed my legs. "I'm decent."

He chuckled. "Practically a rival to the Elvish folk, they say. They did not tell me you were humble."

"Who's 'they'?"

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall. "I suppose it doesn't matter now."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering if I had wasted a trip. He wasn't answering any of my questions. But I had to try. "What's your name?" I asked.

It was his turn to cock an eyebrow. "Is that not also one of those things that no longer matters?"

"I don't like calling you 'the Easterling' or 'the assassin' in my head."

"You shouldn't name what you plan to kill. You will only get attached."

"You can't expect to live after what you did," I stated.

He shook his head. "I knew I had no chance of killing you the minute that guard of yours saw me on the rooftop. But I still had to try. And when I failed, escape was impossible. I had two expectations coming into this job. Kill you and die for the consequence or fail to kill you and escape. Please understand that failing and getting caught was not something I had in mind."

He spoke to me about this as if we were discussing something trivial. And I was confused as hell. "You're very cooperative about this."

"What can I say, Under-king? I have very little to lose now that I am in this unexpected position."

"Then why not tell me your name?"

"Is it really so important?"

"Yes. I can't explain why, but yes, it's important."

He let out another sigh. "You would rather question me about my name than what I said to you in the market square about your husband and king?"

"I don't believe you were telling the truth on that front," I said. "And you weren't, were you?"

"Oh, no, Under-king. As I've said, I knew I had been caught. What was the point in lying?"

"What are you saying?"

"Exactly what I said in the market. I don't think I will repeat it."

I was getting nowhere with this guy. And I highly doubted I would. "Fine, then." I muttered, slumping against my knees.

He continued to stare at me. I don't know why I didn't just leave. Perhaps I thought I could get more out of him. "Do you truly come from a different world?" he muttered. It was so quiet, I barely heard him.

I lifted my eyes, meeting his own. "I do. It's not a secret either."

For the first time his eyes left my face. "In my land, you were but a rumor. Three girls from another world, hell-bent on destroying ours. The Mouth of Sauron spoke many things that you would say are lies."

"You wouldn't? You don't even know my side of the story."

"I don't need to, Under-king. Did you know Easterlings from Khand fought on the Pelennor Fields? Not I, of course. No one allied with the Dark Lord survived that battle. But it was not only Haradrim Men."

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "I was a bit distracted by the Uruk-hai and the Mumakil. Not to mention the Witch-king."

"The one they said no living Man could kill," he said, his voice still soft. "I often wondered if that was true as well. Did you truly slay an immortal creature?"

"If you believe he was immortal," I countered.

A grin passed over his face. "Where are the other two? The girls who came here with you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Mere curiosity."

I shook my head. "I'm not answering your questions if you don't answer mine. I haven't even asked anything vital. I could have come down here and asked who sent you. All I want to know is your name."

"As I have said, Under-king, it is trivial."

"It's not trivial to me. Upstairs they're telling me you need to be slaughtered for what you did. They don't even see you as a person. I don't know your circumstances for coming here. I can't save you from the fate you've given yourself, but perhaps it would be less painful to know that someone up there sees you as a human being and not a monster." I stood then, running my fingers over the front of my tunic. "I'm going to go reward the girl who shot your arm. Then I'm going to the house of the woman you held hostage. For the rest of the day, I will be patching your mistakes. Give that a thought or two while you sit down here waiting for the inevitable."

I headed for the door and walked out. Just as I was about to close the heavy thing, I heard him speak, so soft, it might not have happened.

"Obarin. My name is Obarin."

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	44. Guilt

Chapter 6: Guilt

Edoras, Rohan

Third Age 3021, February

-Rachel-

"My lady, you did not have to summon me here," Helisa said, running a nervous hand up and down her arm.

"You saved Aaryn's life, Helisa," I praised. "I wanted to thank you."

The young girl looked surprised. "You—you're not going to punish me?"

"What?" I said, shocked. "Why would I punish you for that?"

"It's just…you always say never to attack recklessly. To hold ground when the situation is out of our control."

"Helisa, this wasn't some great battle. It's thanks to you that Aaryn is home with her mother right now. And I'm in your debt for saving her. It was my fault the Easterling got hold of her."

"How is Aaryn?"

"I haven't seen her yet. Wulfgard tells me she's shaken, but fine."

"And the Easterling?"

"He's in the dungeons."

"And he will be executed?"

I hesitated in answering. Yes, Helisa would make one hell of a Shieldmaiden someday. But for now, she was just a sixteen-year-old girl. But before I could answer, Dorwine beat me to it.

"He made to kill Rohan's Under-king and used a citizen as a hostage. Yes, child, he will die for this."

I could see Helisa struggle with this and it took her a minute to answer. "I would ask one thing, my lady," she muttered.

"Name it. Whatever it is, you deserve it."

"Could…could you spare the Easterling's life?"

Dorwine practically choked. "Helisa," I said, pulling her startled gaze from Dorwine's obnoxious coughing. "That's not my decision to make."

"But you are the Under-king," she said. "You make the call on his execution. You can spare his life."

"That man tried to kill the future Queen of Rohan and the Under-king, child. How can you ask to spare him?" Dorwine demanded.

"Surely he has learned his lesson? He won't be able to use a bow again after I shot his arm. And he didn't succeed."

"An attempt on royal life is a crime. Does that not mean anything to you, girl?"

"Dorwine," I said. "That's enough."

"No, my lady, it is not." He turned back to Helisa. "Perhaps if it had been Thèoden King's life, you would think differently? Lady Rachel is the acting ruler of this country and what little our King has left in family. Your services were commendable, but your request leaves me questioning your loyalty to the royal family."

"My lord," Helisa muttered. "Lady Rachel has done so much for me these last few months and I did not think it fair to ask for a reward when I was simply paying her back. But I don't like to see life thrown away, especially when the life is no longer a threat."

That seemed to soften the advisor's exterior a bit. "Be that as it may," he said, gently. "We have laws. And what the Easterling did makes his life forfeit. To spare his life would seem as if we do not take our laws seriously. If he is not executed, what is to stop others in his place? We cannot lax on this. Not when we're in the middle of war."

Slowly, she nodded and turned to me. "I understand. And I do not need a reward, my lady. If I could only continue with your tutelage?"

"Absolutely, Helisa," I said, smiling gently. "I'm just not sure how else to say thank you."

"I was honored to do it, my lady. There is no need to show your thanks other than simply saying it."

I smiled as I led this strange girl from the hall. It was amazing, the selflessness of the Rohirrim. And it always caught me off guard.

* * *

Executions were not fun. I mean, why would they be? Fingran knew I did not want this to happen. He was incredibly respectful of that fact, speaking to the people for me as the Easterling, Obarin, sat upon his knees, listening to Fingran's speech. It seemed moments like these did not take place inside the city walls. In fact, we had walked beyond the gates and now stood on a hill, overlooking those who had come. I didn't want to be there, but I felt like I had to be. This was my call, ending this man's life. Of course, there wasn't much choice, but there was a small one. If I chose to stop this now, it would stop, but at what cost? The trust I had worked so hard to gain from the advisors, the threat of someone coming to replace Obarin, or the lack of strength it would show on my part.

Obarin had been questioned by Wulfgard after me. His tactics were clearly more aggressive than mine. There were more important things to figure out than his name. Had he been sent to do this? Was there a reward waiting for him back in Rhûn if he were to succeed? Was what he said about Thèoden and Éomer true?

Obarin claimed to have acted of his own accord, betraying the rules of war. But he would not sway on what he said of Thèoden and Éomer. The last Obarin had heard, Thèoden was dead and Éomer was not far behind him. Wulfgard was not certain he had gotten the truth out of the man, however. If Thèoden and Éomer were in any peril, word would have reached Rohan by now.

And now, Obarin was to die.

"Rohirrim," Fingran called to the small crowd. "We all know why we are here today. An attack on the life of Rohan's Under-king was made two days ago in the market square. Our laws are clear and by decree of our Under-king, Lady Rachel, the sentence for this crime is death. Were Thèoden King here today, you can be rest assured his decree would be the same."

Snow drifted down onto the scene in thick bulbs. I could feel it crunch beneath my feet. Obarin shivered in his spot on the ground. His knees dug into the snow. The bit of his skin I could see under his beard and hair was turning a harsh red from the whip of the wind.

Wulfgard had insisted on performing the execution. He stepped forward, gripping his sword through the cold.

"If you have something to say, say it now," Fingran muttered to Obarin. The air, whipping over the hill was the only thing cutting the silence.

"Only one thing," the Easterling muttered. "I would have your Under-king know that I regret my actions. Not because I think what I did was wrong, but because I realize now that I would have taken the life of a good soul. A person who is not what the stories say. For how could a person feel anything more than hatred for the one who attempted to take their life? I did not expect your Under-king to show me kindness, but she has. And for that I am grateful and I go to Mandos's halls without fight or rebellion."

The wind pulled at the hood of my cloak, but I willed it to stay over my head and cover the royal circlet Fingran had forced me to wear. My eyes pricked with tears and my stomach churned with sickness at the vileness that was taking place before me. And I could do nothing to stop it.

Wulfgard's sword came down upon the neck of the Easterling assassin, whose cries of pain were deadened as the blood poured from his neck. With a second swing, his head fell from his shoulders, rolling onto the ground, his body quickly following. His shackles clanked as he fell to the ground, his blood staining the white of the snow.

I don't know how long I stood there, watching the blood drain from his severed neck. Nearly everyone had left when Fingran spoke again. "My lady, are you alright?"

I managed to tear my eyes away from Obarin's body. But the movement caused my stomach to churn ever more harshly and I bent over, vomiting into the snow.

I had killed men. Not many, but I had done it. And after nearly two years, the hauntings of the Black Breath had never left me. And because of that, neither would the faces of the men I had killed. Orcs were not Men. I didn't relish in killing, but their deaths were not equivalent. They were the embodiment of Evil that lingered from Sauron's wrath. Men were Men. I may have not swung the sword, but I may as well have. This was my kill. I had killed this man.

Was this why Éomer wanted me to stay behind? Because in Rhûn, it would have been my sword and hand to cut through a stranger's flesh? Or my arrow that few through the sky to end a life that was not mine to take? Every life I had ever taken was in defense of my own. My targets had weapons of their own and had willingly entered the fray. Obarin was shackled, defenseless, and beaten. And I had killed him.

Fingran knew better than to ask me if I was alright. He let me sit there and wallow as he should have. Wulfgard didn't do anything either. They let me sit there, between my sick and my victim, and I cried.

Someone showed up after who-knows-how-long. I didn't hear what he said, but Fingran walked over to me soon after their conversation.

"My lady, Ceorl has just arrived from Rhûn. He brings news from King Elessar and your lord husband."

Éomer. It was selfish of me to seek comfort from my husband when the dead man before me would never find comfort again. I didn't move.

"We will need to move his body," the advisor continued. "We can have Ceorl return it to his people so that he may have a burial in his homeland." He wanted me to move. He would never just tell me to stop. He wasn't Dorwine or Hemonbold. I felt his body bend down beside mine. His wrinkled hand, much warmer than my tear-soaked face, touched my cheek gently. "My lady, Rohan needs your attention."

He was right. And so I stood and walked like a zombie back to the hall I was currently ruling. I walked through the gates and through the town, people peering at me from behind the curtains of their homes.

The aura was just as bleak inside the Golden Hall. Dorwine and Hemonbold sat in chairs facing the fire. Ceorl sat in front of a bowl of soup, but he didn't eat it, he merely stirred the contents around with his spoon, his face uneasy.

Something was wrong.

I cleared my throat, and instantly the room was alive again. Ceorl jumped up from his seat and Dorwine and Hemonbold stood quickly, straitening their clothes.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse from the crying and the cold.

"My lady," Ceorl said, pulling letters from beneath his cloak. "I bring word from the King of Gondor and…your lord husband."

I reached out and grabbed them. Aragorn's letter was on top and I started shuffling through, looking for Éomer's, but Ceorl stopped me. "My lady, I must insist you read King Elessar's letter before any others."

I stopped shuffling. "What happened?" I asked again.

"It is all explained in King Elessar's letter—,"

"Ceorl, tell me what happened!" I yelled.

I didn't often raise my voice. Even Hemonbold looked a little scared. "My lady," Ceorl muttered, staring at his feet. "Thèoden King is dead."

 _Oooooh! Cliffhanger! Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Please Review!_


	45. Mearas

Chapter 7: Mearas

Edoras, Rohan

Third Age 3021, February

-Rachel-

I ran from the hall before anyone could stop me. I bolted through the doors of the hall, through the town, and out Edoras's gates. The wind roared in my ears and I couldn't hear. Tears stained my eyes and I could barely see. The cold cut through my lungs, even breathing was hard.

The sharp metal of the Queen's Circlet cut into my forehead and I ripped it off and continued running. I didn't deserve the circlet. It was a symbol of something I couldn't be.

Éomer had given me a way out. He said if I didn't want the throne, I didn't have to take it. I could run, far away. I could find Claire, wherever she had disappeared to. I could take the Last Ship to Aman. I could be free.

My lungs eventually couldn't take the cold and I fell into the snow. I don't know where I ended up, but it was far. I couldn't see Edoras anymore.

I was just a girl. A girl from South Carolina who wanted to be a writer. I tried to think of the girl I used to be, but I couldn't see her anymore. The camp counselor, debt-ridden college student. She didn't exist out here. In her place grew the Bowmaiden, a monster without a mind of her own. I was no Under-king. I should have let Obarin live. Damn the law. At the very least, I should have waited until Thèoden had returned and let the real king commit the sentence.

But Thèoden would never return. Éomer would, but not my Éomer. Not the Marshal of Aldburg. Éomer King, the young ruler of the Riddermark.

I was a joke. A twenty-three-year-old laughing stock who got herself in way over her head. I didn't belong here. If Tolkien knew I had messed with his masterpiece, he would have gone Beowulf on my ass. I didn't belong here.

And Thèoden…I would never see his smile again. Never hear his advice or assurance. I had lost my number one supporter, the man who had taught me that no one truly knows what it's like to be wise…

There was a nudge on the top of my head. I screamed in shock and pulled the knife from my boot, pointing it at the stranger.

But it wasn't a stranger. It wasn't even a person. It was a horse.

I had never seen a horse like this before. Wait…yes I had. The urethral glow around its white mane, the stillness and calmness that seemed to radiate from its very being.

A Mearas.

Shadowfax and Snowmane, Thèoden's horse, were the only true Mearas I had ever met. Windfola was half-Mearas, which was a rare enough breed. In Rohan, the Mearas that roamed the plains were sacred, brought to the land by Bema himself. It was forbidden to disturb or pursue them. Unless they came to you…

But they didn't do that. Mearas only came upon the King of Rohan and his sons. They would kill any others that attempted to ride them.

Another came over the hill. This one was smaller, a mare, and in her mouth, she clutched a something gold. The Queen's Circlet.

Slowly, I put away my knife. Why did she retrieve the circlet? Unless…

I walked towards the couple, slower and more carful than I had ever moved in my life. "Is that for me?" I asked the mare, pointing at the circlet. In response, her partner snuffed and she dropped it in the snow at my feet. I exchanged a look with the male. He pointed his nose at the circlet, then back to my face. He wanted me to put it on.

Again, as slow as possible, I bent down, retrieved the gold piece and put it back on my brow. It was stinging cold from the ice and snow, but I could hardly pay it any mind. For the male bent down onto his knees beside me. He seemed to be offering me a ride, but that couldn't be right. Only the Sons of Eorl could ride the Mearas. I wasn't of his blood, I wasn't his heir.

His heir. Heir to the throne of Rohan. Maybe it wasn't only the sons of the king who could ride the Mearas. Maybe it was the heirs.

I felt stupid talking directly to a horse. When I bantered at Windfola, it wasn't me actually talking to her. But the Mearas could understand the speech of Man. "Is this Bema telling me it's okay? That I'm actually meant to do this?"

He didn't respond, but the mare walked behind me and prodded me in the back, towards her partner. I could practically hear it in the wind. _Ride, Daughter of the Mark_.

The stallion didn't protest. I never mastered bareback riding, but he must have known that. With a shake of his head, his mane practically landed in my hands. Éomer had taught me the basics of bareback riding, though. I gripped the Mearas's sides with my thighs and clutched at the mane. And we were off.

He didn't seem to have a destination in mind. He simply ran. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Neither Theybrush nor Windfola had been able to run this fast, and Winnie was the fastest horse in the Mark. His hooves seemed to glide above the knee-deep snow rather than sink beneath it. I gripped harder as we glided over the snow, past the sewing fields, past Edoras. I rode upon his back until the day's ending. For when the sun began to fall, he seemed to know I had business to do.

He slowed his speed to a trot when we came back upon the city. The gates were normally closed for the night at this time, but I could tell it remained open because my guard was searching for me. They would be pissed that I ran off for hours with no word. How would they react when I came to the steps of Meduseld upon the back of a Mearas?

The people were in their usual evening bustle as I entered the city. It didn't take long before they were all silenced by the presence of a Mearas. In fact, almost total silence followed me to the steps of Meduseld.

Dorwine could be seen pacing the steps, along with Fingran. Hemonbold was off to the side, picking at his fingernails. Since he faced the front of the steps, he saw me first.

I could see his jaw drop like a codfish and his body freeze with shock. When Dorwine passed him, he grabbed the other advisor's shoulder and pointed in my direction. This wasn't something I needed to flaunt. I dropped from the Mearas's back and walked the length of the steps. While Dorwine and Hemonbold were in a state of shock, Fingran sported a tiny grin.

"I have some letters to read?" I said to the old advisor.

He let out a small chuckle. "They're waiting for you on your desk…your highness."

I couldn't bring myself to grin back, so instead I just made for the front door.

"Your highness," Hemonbold said, causing me to turn around. "What of the…um…" he pointed nervously at my Mearas friend.

"He knows the way out."

And he did, cutting through the crowds of people and walking out of the gate and into the glow of snow upon the setting sun.


	46. Wizard

Chapter 8: Wizard

Rhun Encampment

Third Age 3021, Late February

-Aragorn-

"You should get some rest," I said, placing a gentle hand on my friend's shoulder.

His head did not move as he stared into Thèoden's face, growing gray with the decay of death. "He rests enough for the both of us now," Éomer muttered

"We cannot win this if you are so fatigued you cannot stand up straight. This can all be over in a matter of days, Éomer. Then we can take him back to Rohan and put him to rest."

"It has been almost seven weeks," he muttered. "Ceorl would have reached Rachel by now. I half expect her to ride out here with him."

"She is reckless, but not a fool. I think I know her well enough to say that she knows her place and she knows what you would want, as king."

"She never wanted to be queen, Aragorn. I thought we would have more time, but time has been taken from us. Now, she will resent me for this burden."

My hand tightened on his shoulder. "It is the nonsense spewing from your mouth that proves you need sleep. Rachel loves you, Éomer. She is not a fool. She knew what she was getting into when she married you. I once told you loving her would be no easy task—,"

"You said you had never met a better pair of fighters."

"And those words ring true today. Go, my friend. Get some sleep and dream of your wife waiting for you on the steps of Edoras. Do not dwell on the death of a man whose time has long passed him."

It took a moment, but Éomer eventually complied, standing and walking to the king's tent in a ghost-like state.

I took his seat by Thèoden's side, staring into the decaying face and thinking of the events past. We had suffered tremendous blows during this war, far more than I thought possible. I had greatly underestimated the strength that was Rhûn's forces and now this man, this amazing man who had stood by my side through two wars, was now gone. Éomer was king, and reluctant to replace his uncle. Rachel, who was just getting to know this man, was probably in Rohan distraught over the loss of him.

Beside me, someone had taken a seat. I didn't look up to see who, but I didn't have to. He spoke soon enough. "How is he?"

"He is dead, Erchirion," I muttered.

"I know that, sire. I meant Marshal—King Éomer."

"He has lost the closest thing he has to a father and the last member of his family by blood. All he has now is Rachel. The new King of Rohan is shaken. But he will be fine for the battle tomorrow."

"The men hope it will be the last."

I let out a heavy sigh. "We all hope that, lad."

"Lady Rachel is not all King Éomer has left," Erchirion muttered, reaching over my shoulder and placing a dried Simbelmyne by Thèoden's left hand. "He has Kristen and Faramir. He has Claire."

With a small grin I didn't know I had in me, I turned my head to the young Dol Amroth Prince. "He has you as well, Erchirion. By your secret betrothal, you are his brother now as well. And you are all he has in this strange foreign land. Do not be afraid to let him know. He could use a brother now."

He started to stand, but I realized I hadn't yet spoken my full. "Erchirion?"

"Yes, your grace?"

"My heart weeps for Elphir. To lose one so young—"

"He may yet live, sire," Erchirion nearly growled. "He damn well better live."

And with that, he made his way back to Imrahil's tent, Elphir's fate still on the line.

* * *

Edoras, Rohan

Third Age 3021, February

-Rachel-

 _I, Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor, Arnor, and the Reunited Kingdoms, hereby renew the Oath of Eorl with Éomer Son of Eomund, King of Rohan and his wife, Lady Rachel, Queen of Rohan._

That wasn't the only letter Ceorl carried, but it was arguably the most important. Éomer's letters had been riddled with fuzzy details of the battles going on in the east, along with the small attempts of negotiation Aragorn had attempted with the Easterling rulers. Then there was this one:

 _Rachel,_

 _To write it on paper makes it undeniably true, but it is a truth we both must deal with. Thèoden is dead. How I wish I did not have to write those words. I wish I could write you that this war was ended and I was riding home to you as fast as Firefoot would carry me._

 _He perished at the hands of a Rhûn soldier during a negotiation that turned into a skirmish. It was not the death he deserved. Eothain carried his body back to our camp. Two members of the Second Eored were also killed. Prince Elphir of Dol Amroth suffered four knife stabs in his stomach. He still lives, but his future is uncertain._

 _For the first time, I wish you were here. That is not entirely true. Of course, I wish you were here every day. But this is the first time I wish you would defy Thèoden's orders and ride out here. Were I a selfish man, I would ask this of you. But Rohan needs you there. I wish I could tell you when I will be home, but the outlook of the end of battle is still too far ahead to see._

 _I love you, Rachel. I wish we didn't have to be apart, especially now._

 _Éomer_

* * *

It was a long night. Dorwine and Hemonbold had to take a few minutes to recuperate after my grand return, not to mention the bustle of the townspeople. Eventually Hemonbold stunted his own shock enough to calm the people down, but Wulfgard and Fingran had ushered me back into the Hall before I could gather their opinions on the whole ordeal.

When the door shut, Fingran continued leading me to the king's study. "Well, this has been quite the exciting week," he muttered.

"A murder was committed and our king is dead," I countered. "That is not my definition of exciting."

He didn't respond, but I noticed his back grow tense.

Ceorl was waiting in the study, a tray of food on his lap. When we entered, he started to stand but I waved him back down. "Continue your meal, Ceorl. You've had a long journey to get here and another one waiting for you in the morning."

"Thank you, my la—I mean, your highness."

Perhaps this morning I may have cringed at that title. I still didn't like it, but now that it was mine, I couldn't keep denying it. Not now that Thèoden was gone and the whole of Rohan was depending on me. For real now.

I sat down at the desk and grabbed at the bundle of letters. "Éomer King's usual bundle is on the bottom, but his most recent is on the top, along with a note from King Elessar," the messenger said.

I opened Aragorn's first, reading quickly and passing it to Fingran. As I read Éomer's, Dorwine and Hemonbold eventually trickled in and Ceorl left.

His letter was unsettling to say the least. His hand had been shaking when he'd written it. It didn't have his usual spark either. But I couldn't blame him. Thèoden was his last living relative. Nearly a year ago we thought he would succumb to the tortures placed on him by Grima Wormtongue, but he was able to overcome that. Aragorn had told us himself that the king was to live many more years.

Unfortunately, time catches up with us all.

The bit about Elphir was also disturbing. Were Claire here, she would want to know. After all, he was to be her brother-in-law. I wondered if she had access to Erchirion's letters, wherever she had run off to.

I folded Éomer's letter and placed it in my jacket pocket. "Is there no word from the king?" Dorwine asked.

"None for your eyes," I said, pushing the rest of the bundle to the side. "We have plenty to talk about," I continued, meeting each pair of eyes with as much confidence as I could muster. "But I want to get one thing straight before we dive into it.

"What happened today with the man from Rhûn…it was not my decision. I did not wish for his death. I am not an advocate of punishing someone by ending their life. I haven't killed many Men in my days, but I have done it. Every day their faces follow me into my dreams and I am haunted by that. His face will join them now, for I take full responsibility for his death.

"But what happened today will _not_ happen again. Decisions of that magnitude will be left to me. And if I wish to wait for the king to return to pass jurisdiction, then I will wait."

They didn't say anything. They simply nodded. "Good," I said, opening a drawer of the desk and pulling out paper, ink, and a pen. "Now that that's settled, we have some letters to respond to."

We spent the whole night drafting letters to the encampment in Rhûn, allies in Gondor, and to the lords of Rohan. Dorwine and I even drafted papers to transfer temporary rule of Aldburg to Eothain and Frida until Éomer returned and named the next Third Marshal. A letter was written for Princess Lothiriel, giving her Rohan's support as the life of Dol Amroth's heir hung in the balance. The sun was just peeking over the hills of the plains when I leaded back heavily in my chair. "That's it?"

"We have prepared you to address the people tomorrow. No doubt King Elessar has already sent his own messenger with news of Thèoden King's death to his major cities in Gondor. Your own letters will help keep our bond with Gondor tight as knots, your highness," Hemonbold said.

"You should get some sleep, your highness," Fingran said, standing and stretching his old muscles. "I can send someone to the village for Aaryn—,"

"No," I said. "When I have time, I'll go bring her back. That is something I'll not have done for me."

He nodded and a knock sounded on the door. "My la—your highness." It was Dormund. "There is a visitor in the Hall for you."

"Her highness will address the people after she's rested," Hemonbold said.

"With all due respect, my lord, this guest is not one of the villagers. I think her highness will want to see to him personally."

"I'll do it," I said, standing and cracking my stiff neck. "Best get it over with, whoever it is."

I followed Dormund back into the main hall, my feet asleep from lack of use. I was so tired, I wasn't sure how I was going to get through meeting with a stranger. Perhaps I should have just gone to bed…

But as it turned out, Dormund was right. This was a man I needed to see personally. He stood at the end of the hall where Thèoden's throne sat vacant and he placed a wrinkled hand on one armrest and the other lay a Simbelmyne on the seat. His long white hair fell over his shoulders clad in robes just as white and even from the back, I would recognize this figure anywhere.

"Gandalf?" I said, my voice breaking as I muttered his name. He had only begun to turn towards me, however, when a resounding bark sounded from across the hall and a figure landed on my chest, nearly toppling me over.

A small chuckle sounded from over the licks the dog landed on my face. His scruffy black hair, I had become most accustomed to.

"It seems there's a reason that beast followed me to the hall," the wizard said, bending down beside me, giving Thalion's head a scratch. "I should have known you would keep such a rascal as a companion."

"What are you doing here?" I said, standing back up to full height. "I haven't seen or heard from you in nearly two years."

"An eventful two years, I hear," he said, walking to a chair and taking a seat, pulling out his pipe.

"Yeah, you must have eyes and ears everywhere, don't ya?"

He grinned, taking a large puff. "I ran into Claire a few days ago who told me of your escapades since we last spoke."

"Oh did she?" I countered. "I suppose she didn't feel the need to follow you here after disappearing to Bema knows where?"

"I was in Tuckborough visiting a good friend. It seems she and I made a mutual acquaintance."

"Tom Bombadil," I said, sitting down beside him. "And I'm guessing you had no cure for her condition, same as him."

His eyes fell into a grave stance. "It is an unfortunate situation, my dear. And a sad one. Like Tom and Lord Elrond before me, I have no solution. There are some poisons that have no cure."

"I guess if you, of all people, have no solution then there's none to be found."

"But there is a solution. She will live, Rachel."

"But at what cost?" I countered. "She was just starting to get a life here. I know it took her a little long, but she had finally accepted that she had the right to be happy. And now, she's supposed to just lose it all?"

"You are angry," he said, taking another puff of his pipe. "That is understandable. You have lost a man who was like a father to you and must take on a responsibility you never wanted. But believe me when I say that the fate that befalls Claire is not a curse and it is a blessing that she herself does not treat it as such.

"But you, my dear, do not have a right to be angry. It is not you who will lose everything you've come to know. To travel to a strange land with Elves you have never met is something you will not have to endure."

"That doesn't mean it's fair!" I shouted, standing from the chair, causing Thalion to bark. "I barely made it through that month without her when I first got here! Now I'm never going to see her again."

"Life is not fair," he said, snuffing his pipe and returning it to his robes. "Was that written in those books you read back in your land? I highly doubt it. You will not survive through weakness and blame. I did not come to ridicule you, I came to offer condolences of Thèoden's passing and news from Claire. If all you wish to do is lay your problems upon me, I will return to Tuckborough, for I will also depart with the Last Ship and I have matters I wish to attend to."

He stared me down with those piercing blue eyes of his until I caved. "I'm sorry," I said, sitting back down. "You're right. My burdens are not your fault and it's not right to lay them on your shoulders."

"Thank you," he said.

"This news from Claire?" I asked.

"Yes, of course. She did not wish to say where she had gone, only that she is not far and in no danger with her Swan-knight companion. She, like I, had business that needed attending."

He stopped talking and I waited for more, but none came. "That's it?"

"That is it."

I shifted in my chair awkwardly, for he seemed to be done. "Will you stay for long?" I asked.

A small smile crossed his lips. "I only wished to offer my condolences."

And with a final pat to Thalion's head, that was the last conversation I ever had with Gandalf the White.

 _Please Review!_


	47. Queen

Chapter 9: Queen

Edoras, Rohan

Third Age 3021, Late February

-Rachel-

It was…sunny. Not dark or bleak. The sun shined brightly over the plains of Rohan. In the distance, I could see children. Not Orcs or Goblins. Just three children, two young girls and an older boy running through a field in a game of tag. The boy and younger girl both shared light brown hair and the same small nose. The middle child, however, shared no similarities with her companions. Her hair was blonde and beautiful, wafting down in gentle curls around her round face. Her eyes, though, were the most interesting thing about her. Light hazel eyes that were so familiar. The childrens' laughter carried over to me as I sat on a blanket, the smell of summer wafting through the air. And just as I was about to make sense of this…

I was abruptly awakened by a knock on my door. Thalion, who slept in Éomer's spot, knew better than to bark at this hour of the day and shifted on the bed, jolting awake as I did, his loud panting keeping me from burying back in the covers. Based on the position of the sun, I could only have been asleep for about two hours. I desperately wanted to tell whoever it was to stuff it and go back to sleep, but I knew I couldn't.

"Your highness, may I enter?" a familiar voice called from behind the door.

I nearly jumped out of my robe when I recognized the voice and ripped the door open. "Aaryn," I said, pulling her into a tight hug. "Aaryn, I'm so sorry."

She hugged me back. "It was not your fault, your highness."

I pulled back, sitting us down on the bed. "It wasn't directly my fault, no. But you were put into danger by association with me—,"

"Your highness, please do not. I already know what you wish to say, and it doesn't need to be said. I returned for one simple reason, and I hope it is not over the line. You are my friend, my lady, and I refuse to abandon you in this moment. It is as simple as that."

I nearly choked on air. "I haven't been a very good friend," I muttered.

"You have done your best, considering," she said with a small smile. "You never abandoned me. You sent Gareth home with me and my mother. Lord Fingran informed me that you were planning on coming to me as soon as you had spoken to the people to tell them of Thèoden King."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I had never been good at public speaking. Fingran had never seen cause to make me speak to the people before now, as Under-king was just a figurehead. But as queen, things would be different. And this time, I had no Éomer to back me up. I had no Thèoden.

"Your highness," Aaryn muttered, placing a gentle hand on my back. "There is nothing wrong with grief."

"I escaped it," I said between my fingers. "During the war, I managed to keep almost everyone I held dear. I lost no one on Pelennor or Morannon. Back home, where I come from, death has a harder time finding its victims."

"But you were close with the Lady Éowyn, were you not?"

"I was. She was the first I lost. And the last. I didn't handle it well, either. It took weeks for Gandalf to convince me it wasn't my fault. I'm not good with death, Aaryn. I just…I can't believe he's gone. It doesn't feel like he's gone. It feels no different."

Her hand continued to circle my back comfortingly. "Perhaps he is not truly gone. The people do not yet know the exact truth, but after seeing you ride a full-blood Mearas last night, rumors began to circulate. When you tell them, perhaps Thèoden King is not all gone. He was a true King of the Mark and not even death can erase that so quickly." Her hand stopped as she let out a huff. "Now come, your highness. The snow still falls thickly and we'll need to dress you in furs. It would not be good to catch a cold on your first week of being queen."

* * *

There they stood, about four hundred, the entire population of Edoras. Men, women, and children all waiting for me to confirm their suspicions and rumors.

With a solid nod from Fingran, I cleared my throat. The winter air was brisk against it, threatening to keep my volume low. But it couldn't be low. I had to show them I was strong.

"Eorlingas," I yelled, the queen's circlet around my brow. "Word reached Meduseld last night concerning the eoreds in Rhûn. It grieves me to bring you the news that Thèoden King was killed in a skirmish with a band of Easterlings." They started to whisper, their distress and rumors confirmed. "My lord husband, Éomer, Son of Eomund," I continued. "Has renewed the Oath of Eorl with King Elessar of Gondor and is now King of Rohan in all but ceremony."

I desperately wanted to stop. Their whispers were causing my stomach to clench. Were they even listening anymore? I neared panic as I stared into the crowd. Just as I was about to make a run for it, I met Aaryn's eyes. With a small smile, she mimicked a deep breath before gesturing out to the snow covered plains. And I knew what I needed to say.

"We may never see Thèoden King again," I yelled, steadying my voice even further than before and my sudden return to confidence caused the whispering to subside. The peoples' heads turned back in my direction. "But that doesn't mean he will not be with us. He was a Man of the Mark. The truest Man of the Mark I had ever met. Strong as the winds that blow through our fields. Sturdy as the plains our horses graze upon. And kind as the gentle rivers that flow over the land. Not even death can take a man like that so easily from his home. He will live on, just as Eorl the Young lives on through the untamed Mearas of the Wild.

"I know I am a poor substitute for Meduseld's throne. But that does not mean I won't try. I know not what you learned from Thèoden King, but I learned a great deal. And I will do everything I can in Éomer King's absence to rule as he taught me. Rohan survived the Orc raids, the Battle of the Hornburg, even the Great Battles of the Ring War. We've rebuilt homes, re-sewn crops. And if we can survive all that…I know we will survive this."

It was dead silent. All that could be heard was the howl of the wind. Until…

"Hǣl Rachel Cwēn!" A voice called from the crowd. It was only the one, I knew not who. But it grew to two people, then three, until the whole crowd started chanting "Hǣl Rachel Cwēn!"

I was shit at learning languages, especially old Rohirric. But even I knew what they chanted that day.

 _Hail Rachel Queen_.


	48. Visitors

Chapter 10: Visitors

Edoras, Rohan

Third Age, 3021 March

-Rachel-

"Back in Ithilian," I muttered, my back against the stone door of Brego's tomb. "I remembered what you had told Uncle that day we convinced him to let us fight at the Hornburg. That your greatest fear was a cage you would inevitably be trapped in. I've been thinking about it this last month, what with everything going on, and I think I realized something. You were supposed to do exactly what I did. Your fate was to kill the Witch-king, marry the prince of a foreign kingdom, have his children, and live the rest of your life in his city, no fighting or training ever again. And this supposedly made you happy, giving everything you thought you wanted away.

"But what if the cage is only what we make it? What if Claire was right when she said I was only unhappy because I chose to be? Because I didn't like the stigma of being Éomer's wife? Because I don't feel trapped anymore, Éowyn. I feel free."

I curled a Simbelmyne between my fingers, its velvety petals caressing the callouses there. Everything I had just said was true. No longer did I wait until Fingran or the other advisors told me it was okay. I dictated when our meetings would be. I held regular grievance days for commoners to come speak their problems to the throne which had not occurred since the king's absence. I was able to continue lessons in the barracks. And for the first time since Éomer had left, I felt as if things would be okay. Not perfect, never perfect. But okay. Okay was just fine with me.

Kristen had visited not long after that talk, bringing Flynn with her. He had grown in the eight months I had seen him (jeeze, had it really been eight months?) and it was insane how developed he'd become. I never spent much time around babies or toddlers. Kids were my thing. I liked 'em best when they could walk and talk and go to the bathroom on their own. But holy cannoli, Flynn could pull himself up and stand now, though he still couldn't walk. He cried way less than when he was newborn and he could wave at me when Kristen prompted him. Their visit was pretty much exactly what I needed.

"How are you?" she asked me that first night as she rocked Flynn to sleep. "And tell the truth."

"I'm…better than you'd think," I said tentatively, thinking she wouldn't believe me.

"Honestly, I thought you might have run. You were so scared of this last I saw you and you mentioned that Éomer gave you a way out. I thought you would have taken it. I guess the Mearas changed your mind?"

"How did you know about that?"

She let out a small chuckle, rising to put Flynn in a borrowed crib. "Everyone from Harad to Arnor is talking about it. You're the first woman in Rohan's history to tame a Mearas. Word like that travels fast."

"Have you heard anything from the encampments? Has Faramir?"

She shook her head. "Nothing since word of Thèoden's death and Elphir's injury had reached us."

"What about Claire?"

"Nothing from her either," she muttered, sitting back down in her chair. "I thought we might have heard at least a message telling us she was okay. Whatever happened to our six month rule? It's been…how long has it been?"

"Six months now. She may check in any day."

A small chuckle escaped. "You're very hopeful."

"I've found that a little hope doesn't go amiss. After all, she sent word with Gandalf, so it's not like she doesn't even care."

"I feel like she would be in Dol Amroth with Beriana if she even knew what was happening with Elphir, though," she pointed out.

"I don't think she's getting letters. Honestly, that's probably why she disappeared. She hates being at war more than anyone I know. She's just distancing herself from it."

A knock sounded on the door, then, bringing us out of our conversation. "Your highness," Dormund said, entering. "There is a small caravan from Dol Amroth awaiting you in the Hall."

"Dol Amroth?" I asked, surprised. "Is it Claire?"

"Nay, my lady," the doorward said, looking uncomfortable. "It is…well, a rather outspoken woman called Lady Ivriniel and her niece, Princess Aranel."

Kristen immediately had her had wrapped around my wrist. "Not that old bitch," she growled.

"Umm," Dormund muttered uncomfortably. "I suppose that is one way to describe her, Princess Kristen, though personally I would not use such language to describe a foreign lady."

"Claire told me about her," I said, prying my wrist from Kristen's fingers. "She sounds like a piece of work."

"Your highness," Dormund said. "Shall I bring them here, or do you wish to meet them in the hall."

"The hall is fine," I said. "I need to stretch my legs anyway." I whistled for Thalion who jumped up from his pillow and sauntered over to my side. "Are you coming?" I asked Kristen.

"Hell no," she said. "That woman is vile. I don't want anything to do with her. Don't even tell her I'm here."

I chuckled before waving and walking out the door. She couldn't be all that bad. After all, she was just a little old lady.

Turns out, this little old lady could be…well, to use everyone else's word: a bitch.

Dormund and I walked toward the hall and before I could even see the door, I could hear who was on the other side.

"Dirty, filthy people. Disgusting Halls, abysmal thrones. And this man called himself a king? At least King Elessar's throne could be called one. This is a wooden chair painted with flaking gold. Look at that, niece. Horses! Horses everywhere! And excrement just lying on the streets. I wouldn't have left the carriage if my bones hadn't been crying with aches and pains."

Dormund looked ready to punch a hole through the wall. I was pretty offended myself, but I knew how to hold my ground, which seemed a bit harder for Dormund. For the first time in six months, I thanked the gods that Éomer wasn't here. Ivriniel may be a tiny old lady, but I doubt even Éomer would be able to hold his tongue when it came to her.

"Go announce me," I said, reaching behind me to tighten the straps on my tunic. Flynn had spit up a bit earlier on the leg of my pants, but this sounded like the kind of woman who would quite possibly have a heart attack if she ever saw another woman in trousers, even if they were pristine.

Dormund looked confused. I normally hated being announced, but I needed to show Ivriniel who exactly was boss of this Hall.

Dormund went through to the throne room. I heard him clear his throat, but he didn't get much further than that.

"There you are, you impertinent boy," her shrill voice carried into the hallway. "I see you have not returned with what I asked for. You see, niece, these Rohirrim are as dumb as their horses."

I didn't even wait for my announcement. I slammed the hall door open, positive my face was redder than a tomato with anger. "The next time you insult an Eorlingas in this house will be your last," I growled, marching over to the Queen's throne and planting myself in it.

There were more people in the hall than I expected. Along with Ivriniel, there were five swan-knights and who I could only assume was Princess Aranel.

"I beg your pardon?" the old woman said, placing a hand on her chest. "Did you just threaten me, child?"

"Damn skippy," I said, crossing my legs rather roughly.

"Damn…what?" she said, looking both pissed off and confused.

"Damn skippy. It means you're right, Lady Ivriniel. I did threaten you. How dare you come into my Hall and say these things about my people and my home. You're lucky I haven't thrown you back out with all the horse shit on our streets."

She looked like a fat, wrinkly, female Elphir. Through the layers of age, I could tell that once upon a time, Lady Ivriniel was probably very pretty and her resemblance to her family was uncanny. The shape of her lips, the color of her eyes. She was clearly Imrahil's sister, though the prince had certainly aged better than her.

Aranel, a simple but pretty looking woman of my age, had her face contorted in a way that seemed to be suppressing laughter. And when Ivriniel scoffed at the ground, I shot her a wink. After Claire's description of her, I doubted she'd be taking Ivriniel's opinions to heart.

"Never have I met a woman of your stature," Ivriniel said, her hand tapping lightly on her chest. "Not even that ridiculous sister of yours was as seemingly inept as you. At least that girl knew how to wear a dress, as shabby as it was. How dare you parade around in trousers like a man."

"How dare you visit my home and expect lodgings after insulting our culture and people," I countered. "Lady, I could do this all day. However, I'm a Queen now and I don't have time for the likes of you." I stood up from the throne and turned to the other woman in the room. "You're Princess Aranel?"

"Yes, your grace," she said with a small curtsy.

"Claire's told me nothing but good things about you. I'm sure you're tired from your trip and I'm anxious to know what brings you to Edoras, but I'm sure you would love a hot meal or a bath, maybe?"

She shot a nervous glance at Ivriniel but I linked my arm with her's before she could object and started walking her out of the hall. "Any future sister of Claire's is a future sister of mine," I said with a smile, but we didn't make it far before Ivriniel shot back another retort.

"You would just leave a tired old guest in your hall?"

"Anyone who insults my people or my home is no guest of mine," I shouted back without turning around. Dormund followed the two of us through the hall and when the door was shut, I whispered to my doorward. "Give Lady Ivriniel a meal and a room. Nothing extravagant."

With a curt nod, he went back to the throne room, but Aranel looked confused. "Forgive me, your grace," she muttered. "But you would still house her after her words?"

I un-linked our arms and started walking back to Kristen's room as Aranel followed. "I'm not going to let her starve. My grandmother was like her. Didn't know how to keep her mouth shut and didn't care who she insulted. She can't help it. Her mind is probably going."

Aranel shook her head. "I doubt it, your grace. My husband told me stories of growing up with Lady Ivriniel."

"Claire told me Ivriniel hit her at your wedding. My grandmother liked to hit too, but like I said, her mind was going."

"I can almost guarantee she doesn't hit as hard as Lady Ivriniel."

"Did she hit you?" I asked.

But Aranel shook her head. "She wouldn't dare. Amrothos would more than likely flail her."

We had reached Kristen's room and I opened the door, letting us through. "I should mention that one of your in-laws is here," I said, walking through.

"Lothiriel is here?" Aranel asked, instantly speeding into the room.

"Um, no. I meant Kristen, my other sister," I said, shutting the door as she turned back to me, looking just as confused as I was. "Why would Lothiriel be here?"

Aranel slumped into a chair. I could hear Flynn cooing in the adjacent room and figured Kristen was with him. I sat beside Aranel, who looked instantly exhausted. "Lothiriel ran from Dol Amroth nearly two weeks ago," Aranel explained. "She left a note for Elphir's wife Beriana, leaving her in charge of the city."

"And you thought she might be here," I concluded.

"I thought she might have run to Claire. Lottie admired her from the moment they met. I meant to come on my own, but Ivriniel demanded to come with me."

"Claire isn't here, nor is Lothiriel. I haven't seen or heard from Claire since October."

Aranel looked disappointed. "That was the last we saw of her as well. She told Lottie she would be staying with you until Marshal Éomer returned." She paused before adding. "King Éomer. I am sorry, your grace."

I shook my head. "Don't be. And you can call me Rachel. I don't mind. After all, we'll be family soon enough."

"Yes, you keep mentioning that," she said, again confused. "I don't understand your meaning."

"Oh, that's right," I said, mentally kicking myself. "Claire said she and Erchirion hadn't told anyone. They were engaged a few nights before the departure for Rhûn."

A small smile entered her distressed lips. "I'll admit, that brings me great joy. Amrothos often wondered if Erchirion would ever win her heart after a year of pining. And after I met her, I knew it was obvious she was the one for Erchirion. Like Claire, he can never seem to stay in one place for too long. He seeks adventure and someone to share it with. I'm glad they found each other."

I didn't know how much Aranel knew of Claire's condition and in fear of bringing it up, I quickly changed the subject. "I wish I knew more about Lothiriel, but I've only met her the one time. I would hate for you to return to Dol Amroth empty handed. Is there anything else you know that could lead us to her?"

"You wish to help?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course. Not only as future family, but as an ally to Dol Amroth and Gondor. If I can help find its princess, I would hate to be a wasted resource."

Aranel shifted in her seat. "I'm afraid the only information I have cannot be known to Lady Ivriniel. If she found out about this, Lothiriel would probably be better off far away from her wrath."

I grinned, slouching back in the chair. "It's a boy, isn't it?"

"How did you know that?" Aranel asked, again full of surprise.

"I've only met Lothiriel once, but I already know of her tendency to take advantage of whatever boy she can sway her direction. Just ask my Rider, Rimbon." She didn't look any less comforted by this, so I tried again. "Aranel, I swear, I can keep a secret. If it can help us find her, I want to help."

Eventually, the new princess nodded, leaning closer to me. "A few months ago, Lothiriel rescued a man from the sea. He was foreign to Gondor and I learned very little about him during his time at the palace. In fact, I paid him little mind until I noticed Lothiriel sneaking out of the palace late at night to meet him. She had secured him a job in our smithy, crafting swords and the like, so she didn't have to go far to see him. She became less attentive to her work. She only responded to letters when it was necessary. But as soon as she disappeared, this man did as well. I have very little doubt that they are together."

"That's all you know?" I asked. "Not even his name?"

"Oh, I know his name. He claimed to be a Ranger from the North. Alanric, Son of Kellric."


	49. Mermaid

_Chapter 11: Mermaid_

 _Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor_

 _Third Age, 3020 November_

-Alanric-

Dol Amroth was a different place. My desire to see the country was fueled by one simple curiosity: What was the ocean like? I had heard Elladan and Elrohir talk about it well enough. As Elves, their hearts would always long for the distant waters in some way, but I had a feeling the half-Elves had just enough human in them to keep them from the shores, at least for the time being. But I wanted to see it myself.

I made the journey on foot, not wanting to waste what little coin I had on a horse I would not keep. If I were not a coward, I would have stopped in Rohan to purchase one of their stallions and breed it in the south for coin, but I hadn't the heart to face Lady Rachel. Not quite yet. I feared my foolish elder brother had ruined things for me on that front. I doubted the lady and I would ever be friends after that ordeal. Not to mention, I probably only reminded her of painful times. The loss of her children, the attempt to run from her love…she didn't need me there to remind her of it all.

When I made it to the Swan-city, it was raining. Not all that hard, but the winds did whip at the air with a force to rival the plains of the Riddermark. And in the air, the smell was different. Not the clean, fresh air of the North, but laced with salt and tang that must have been fish from the harbor. It was cold as well, nearing winter, yet it was not cold enough to snow. I was too far south. Night was falling, and with this storm, I would have to wait for the sea until tomorrow.

The city was dying down for the night, lamps getting snuffed and the people trickling back into their homes. It didn't take me long to find the city's inn, one of the larger buildings called the Mermaid's Tail. What a mermaid was, I knew not. All I knew was that a warm bed and hopefully hot bath was waiting for me as refuge from my travels.

It was a cozy place and much cleaner than I would have expected. It looked relatively empty. A few men who looked like sailors who were huddled in a corner and a female bartender were all I could see. I sat down at the bar and the woman came over, grabbing a mug and filling it with ale. "You're not from around here," she said. It wasn't a question.

"No, I'm not. Do you have any rooms?" I asked, taking the mug from her hand.

She let out a snort. "Do we have rooms? What with the Knights all off in the East, we don't have many venturing into our city these days. You can have any room in the house, lad."

"Whatever room proves easiest for you, mistress," I said, taking a long drink from the mug. "I'm not picky."

She gave me a long look and wrinkled her nose. "You look like you haven't seen a bath in weeks, lad. Where did you travel from?"

"The North," I answered simply.

She let out another snort. "You can't be from Rohan. Saw those Horselords during the war. All fair-haired and large."

"I didn't say I was from Rohan," I muttered.

"Oh," she said, grabbing a rag from under the counter and wiping down glasses. "You mean the far North. Don't get many men traveling from that far. That is, unless they come for the sea. I bet that's why you're here, isn't it?"

I grinned, setting the mug down. "You're a very insightful woman. It's true, I've never seen the sea. I know nothing of its nature. It is embarrassing that I don't even know what a mermaid is, yet I wish to stay at an inn bearing its name."

"A mermaid is a creature of legend. From above the torso, it bears the body and face of a beautiful woman. Below, the tail and fin of a fish. They say the kiss of a mermaid would keep a man from drowning, but very few catch the eye of such a creature."

"A friend of mine recently visited this city and recommended I give it a try. I understand why she sent me here. It suits her personality."

"Did this friend stay at my inn?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I doubt it. Her acquaintances were greater than my own."

The barmaid raised an eyebrow. "A lady friend?"

I shook my head. "You assume too much. She's in courtship with another man. A man much more important than me. I suppose at one time something may have happened between us. Circumstances made me think there was a barrier. But now I see I was just too cowardly to break through it. But she is better off with this man. He makes her happy, I suppose. That's all I ever wanted for her, anyways."

She leaned further over the bar. "What's her name?"

I drained the mug, pushing it away. "I suppose it matters little what her name is. It was by happenstance our paths crossed. By all accounts I shouldn't even be here. I know she plans to return."

She turned around and reached under the bar, pulling out a key. "This is for one of the rooms on the ground floor. My knees don't like climbing those stairs anymore."

She seemed to be done with this conversation. I couldn't blame her. It was rather depressing.

* * *

I had always been an early riser from a bed. Beds were a comfort, to be sure, but whenever I found myself privileged enough to use one, I could never sleep as soundly as I could on the ground in my travels. I supposed it was the Ranger in me. Did Elessar have these problems when he gave up his wandering life for that of a king? I often wondered.

The sun was not yet up, but the rain of the storm had passed and the clouds had cleared, revealing the low moon and the beginnings of a new day. Pre-dawn was peeking out in purple rather than black. Today I would see the ocean. And I felt I could not wait longer.

After dropping a few coins on the bar I made my way out onto the streets. The earliest risers were about, starting their day. The smells of fish and salt were ever abundant, and there was something about the air that was different. The rough winds from last night still whipped through the air. I had heard wind effected the ocean, but how? The curiosity had taken over and I found myself headed for what I imagined were sails gracing the sky in the distance. Where there are boats, there is water.

The path to the sails brought me along the base of a large cliff at which a castle stood upon. Dol Amroth's fortress. And what a sight it was. I wondered what it looked like against the brightness of the sun.

Then I saw it. The vast array of water shooting out against the skyline as far as the eye could see. So far I could not tell where sky met water. The moon had sunk too low in the sky to illuminate the waters, but the growing colors of the rising sun brightened it just enough to gain an effect.

The wind did indeed whip at the water, causing waves to crash against the cliff face I stood on top of now. It was a sound unequivocal to anything I had ever heard before. In the distance, I saw the white sands of a beach. I had heard tell of the feeling of sand between toes. Was it anything like dirt or was it truly the comfort that had been described to me?

Something disrupted the calmness of the beach, though. I know not where the figure came from. It was a woman, no doubt about that. Her form was graceful beneath a white shift and nothing else. She seemed to glide along the sand and, as her feet met the water, I noticed her shoulders take a deep breath and then a graceful exhale. Her black hair, so long it almost reached her waist, was whipped about by the wind, so harsh I wondered how she stood upright.

Suddenly, she dived and let the waves carry her out to sea. How deep did the water get? I leaned further against the railing of the cliff, not wanting to lose sight of the beautiful creature. She was not a fish below the white skirt, but surely this was what the innkeeper had been describing when she told me of mermaids. She continued to move out of my line of view and I strained to see her. But before I could realize my mistake, I fell from the cliff.

The smack of the water hit me hard, but not as hard as the way the waves thrashed me about. I broke surface briefly enough to grab air, but was soon pulled back under. I had thought myself a decent swimmer back when my brothers and I would take to ponds or lakes, but I was sorely mistaken. I could not fight the waves. The last thing I remember was a tug from beneath my armpits before I saw blackness.

* * *

"—Managed to get him breathing again. He woke up for a moment, but passed out again. I'm worried for him, Aranel. He needs water. He swallowed too much of the sea."

"You shouldn't be in here alone with him. Perhaps we should call for Hothien."

"No, we needn't disturb Hothien. I can help him if he just wakes up."

I shifted my weight, causing the whispers to subside. I seemed to be under a thin blanket in a bed. I tried to open my eyes, but it was too bright in the room.

"He's awake," said the softer of the voices. I could hear her body move closer to me.

I tried to say something, but all that came out was a croak. I was thirsty. Too thirsty.

"Here," said the voice. I felt soft skin touch my own, opening up my hand and placing a cup there. "You swallowed much sea water. You need to drink."

I managed to open my slowly adjusting eyes and brought the cup to my lips, drinking up the fresh water.

"Slowly," she said, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling it back. "Small sips will do the trick."

"Lottie," the other woman said in a warning tone.

"Shh, Aranel. He has salt-poisoning."

"He also threw himself from a cliff."

"Fell," I managed to get out over the croak.

"Sorry?" the softer one, Lottie asked.

"Didn't jump. I fell. Saw a mermaid."

The one called Aranel laughed. "A mermaid?"

"Where am I?" I asked. My eyes were finally adjusting to the light.

"Dol Amroth's palace," Lottie answered. "You fell from the cliff into the sea. Do you have a name?"

"Alanric." And with the clarity of my name came clarity for my eyes and I saw _her_. The mermaid from the morning. Only, her hair was no longer falling in cascades. It was bundled tight against the nape of her neck. Her white shift was gone as well, replaced by a simple blue gown.

"Aranel," Lottie muttered. "Could you get Lindwen to bring up a bowl of broth? His voice is pretty hoarse."

The two exchanged a quiet whisper that I couldn't quite make out. My ears seemed to be plugged with something, as if I had the flu. I certainly felt as if I had the flu. My nose was running and my eyes burned from the air. Not to mention my throat, which felt as raw as sandpaper.

I did my best to concentrate on my glass of water, rather than ogle at the mermaid. I tried to sit up in the bed, but my muscles protested.

"Careful," Lottie said, walking back over to me. "You could have broken something when you fell. The tide can be rough after a storm."

I attempted to move my bad shoulder. It had never been the same since Lady Rachel had dislocated it. I poked around at my ribs, wiggled my toes. Everything seemed fine, save my muscles. My body just didn't want to move.

"You thought I was a mermaid?" Lottie asked quietly, bringing me out of my inspection.

"So it was you?"

"It's rude to spy on people," she muttered, reaching over and touching my forehead. "Perhaps Ulmo had the winds push you off the cliff."

"Are you mad that I spied on you?"

"I'm mad that I had to save you. You're quite heavy when you're wet. Luckily Aranel had come to find me. She helped me carry you to the palace."

"The royal family is not mad that you brought me here?"

She looked surprised for a moment, but soon relaxed her face. "You're not from here, are you? Of course, any Amrothian would know not to stand at the cliff's edge when the winds are blowing so harshly."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Most of the royal family are in Rhûn. Aranel is wife to Prince Amrothos and Prince Elphir's wife and son are here as well, as am I."

"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused by that last bit.

"I'm Princess Lothiriel. Lottie is just a nickname."

Bollocks! I should never have come here. "Please, forgive me, princess. I didn't come to Dol Amroth to invade the palace. I came for a quiet visit. I did not know it was royalty I had been spying upon—"

"Calm down," she said, that smirk still on her face. "I saved you from drowning, but I doubt my medicinal skills are hearty enough to save you from a heart attack," she said, standing and walking to a chest of drawers and shuffling through it. "Most travelers come to see the waters. Is that why you came? The Gray Havens are for the Elves, the shores of Minhariath and Enedwaith are populated with nomads and barbarians, and Harad is too far south for most travelers." She turned back to me, a jar in her hands. "Dol Amroth's waters are the best, though. You picked a good choice to see your first glimpse of the great waters, even if you did come just before winter. They're much better in the summertime."

She pulled a small stool up to the edge of the bed as I did my best to sit up, noticing for the first time that my chest was bare. In fact, all but my trousers were gone. Before I could apologize again though, she continued speaking. "This is a salve made from a plant native to Harad. It should help with your muscle pain. Your voice is still hoarse, so I sent for a healing broth and some tea."

"I don't understand," I muttered.

"What confuses you?"

"Do you not have better things to do than care for me? You are the princess…"

"Sometimes distractions are nice," she muttered, placing the salve on the bedside table. Before I could inquire further, she stood from her stool. "I should see why your broth is taking so long." And with that, she left the room.

Oh Valar, what had I gotten myself into? I hadn't meant to encounter any of the royal family. While I was happy for Claire and all that this family had helped her attain, I didn't actually want to like them, let alone know them. I knew good and well I had missed my chance with the girl I had rescued from the forest.

When Kelleth made his mistake with Lady Rachel, I swore I would not make the same mistake with Lady Claire. Rachel had been attached, in love with another man and carrying his children. Kel had always been bolder than me. I had always been more aggressive and less approachable. And when it came to Claire, I did not want to burden her further than her injury already had. Clearly, Prince Erchirion did not seem to care about that.

I took a long drink from the wooden cup as I pondered this but found it drained in a matter of seconds. I spotted a pitcher on a table in a corner of the room. My muscles all protested, but thirst overpowered the pain and I made my way to the pitcher, forgoing the cup and drinking straight from the larger container. I had never been this thirsty in my life. But soon, it was too much and nausea overtook me. The closest place to safely upchuck was the window and that's where I ended up, hanging over the ledge with the harsh waves that had caused all of this thrashing against the side of the castle.

I don't know how long I was there, but I never heard the door open, nor did I realize anyone was in the room with me until a warm hand touched my back tenderly. "I told you to take small sips of water," Lottie muttered comfortingly.

 _Lothiriel_ , I corrected myself. _Princess Lothiriel_. I pulled my head back in just in time to see the princess snatch her hand away from my bare back. She turned away from me just as fast, but I swore, I saw her cheeks flush ever so slightly.

"The more I drank, the thirstier I became," I defended.

"The water of the ocean is tainted with salt, which drains the clean water from your body. We call it salt-poisoning."

"How long until I can leave?" I asked.

"Well, if you actually follow my instructions," she teased, turning back to me wearing that smirk again. "Perhaps tomorrow. A good bit of what you are feeling is fatigue. You may just need to sleep it off."

"I did not intend to make such a fuss in Dol Amroth," I said, running my hand through my hair, which was rougher now that it was tainted with the salt water. "I merely wished to see the ocean."

She pointed up to the hand on my head. "What is that?"

I pulled my hand back and starred at the six-pronged star. "The mark of the Northern Rangers," I answered, running the opposite thumb over the tattoo.

"Are you a Ranger?"

I dropped my hands and walked back to the bed, sitting down beside a tray with a steaming bowl and teapot. "I used to be."

She walked back to her stool and sat down. "Why are you no longer?"

I reached for the bowl of broth, wanting something to do with my hands, and stirred it slowly with the spoon. "That is a story for another day."

"Well, as my aunt would say, a man with no occupation is no man at all."

"I would not necessarily call Ranger an occupation. It was something I was born into."

"Well, if you need a job, there are plenty here at the palace with the swan-knights gone."

I shook my head, but quickly stopped for it sent the fluid in my ears swishing. "I don't think I'll be staying in Dol Amroth, princess. I have only been here a day and already I've caused too many problems."

She raised an eyebrow. "Where will you go?"

What did she care? "Wherever my feet take me. That is the way of the Rangers."

"I thought you were no longer a Ranger," she countered, that smirk returning yet again.

Normally, I would have been annoyed with such badgering, but for some reason I liked that my words brought a smirk to her face. She really was as beautiful as I had heard tell. Her skin was darker than mine, assumedly from time spent in the sun. Her hair, so dark it was nearly black was bundled tight at the nape of her neck. It wasn't glossy like the hair of the few women of Gondorian court I had met in my time. That was probably from the salt-water. Her eyes, which would crinkle when that smirk grazed her lips, were a striking gray, like the rain clouds outside.

"I suppose I did say that, yes."

"My cousin Faramir has Ranger friends in Ithilian. Will you go there if not back to the North?"

"I was in Ithilian for quite a few months before I came here. No doubt they are sick of me at this point."

"Well, it seems like you have nowhere else to go," she said, crossing her legs.

"And what would become of me if I stayed, my lady?"

"Well, I could guarantee you good wages, decent food, and accommodations. You look strong and you clearly know weaponry. I had to detach your sword from your hip in the water when I rescued you. It was too heavy. I could secure you a job in the smithy so that you could make a new one. Our blacksmith is looking for assistants to help with making supplies for the troops in the east. As for what will become of you…" she finished, rising from her stood and straightening her dress. "I suppose that's up to you, Alanric."

And I couldn't find it in me to say no. I wanted to stay near the mermaid.


	50. Field Trip

_Chapter 12: Field Trip_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age 3021, March_

-Rachel-

"Alanric?" I nearly shouted. "Dark shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, cocky attitude, narcissist? That Alanric?"

"You know him?" Aranel asked, surprised.

"Know him? Yes I know him! I tore his arm out of its socket!"

"Out of its…what was that?"

"Never mind. Kristen!" I called towards the door.

Her head popped out, looking frustrated. "I told you, I'm not dealing with that crazy old woman."

"Never mind her," I said. "You're not going to believe this!"

She must have left Flynn with his nanny. After looking around the room and realizing Ivriniel was nowhere near here, she entered with her whole body. "What could possibly have you this excited?"

"Forgive me, your grace," Aranel said, rising from her chair. "This is not something to get excited about. It is certainly not something I wish Lady Ivriniel to discover, nor do I wish it to become rumor. Lothiriel's reputation is at stake with this very information. I know you have different views of this sort of thing in Rohan, but in Gondor, to run off with a man like this is considered very wrong. Even more so since she is a princess and he, a commoner of a foreign country."

"You must be Aranel," Kristen said. "We haven't met yet."

"And I look forward to getting to know you in the future, cousin," she said with a polite nod of the head. "But right now, finding Lothiriel and Alanric is my top priority. If Prince Imrahil were to return and find Lothiriel missing, he might die of shock. With Elphir injured so, that is not good. Beriana is barely keeping it together back home knowing her husband may not return."

"Did you say Alanric?" Kris asked. "Isn't that one of the brothers who took you to Rivendell?"

I nodded. "I honestly have no clue where he could be, Aranel, or Lothiriel. But I think I have an idea on how to find them."

"You do not have to help, your grace. I only hoped to find her here, or discover Claire's whereabouts. Since neither can be found in the Mark—"

"Maybe they can," I countered. "I have thirty people that can search the Mark and surrounding areas. I can also send a messenger to the Rangers in the North to inquire about Alanric. If we pull our resources, I know we can find them."

"But…why would you do this?" she asked. "You do not know Lottie or myself. Why extend this much assistance?"

I shifted in my seat. "Not long ago, I assumed the worst in Lothiriel. A part of me thought she had the power to take everything from me. But then I realized that I actually took a lot from her. And while I respect her choice to run off with whomever she chooses, reputation be damned, I don't want to see her make a mistake she might regret. I think I owe that much."

Aranel didn't look any less confused. "That doesn't make any sense."

"You find the majority of words that Rachel says rarely make sense," Kristen joked.

"But, your grace, there is still the matter of Lottie's reputation. Like I said, Lady Ivriniel and Prince Imrahil cannot know this has happened."

"Right," I said. "How about this? I send scouts out to look for Alanric. I think it's safe to assume the two are together. Whoever finds them, we swear them to secrecy. And if Lothiriel isn't with Alanric, he may know more than we do and we're that much closer to finding her."

"I don't know…" Aranel said cautiously.

"You can't keep the whole thing from Imrahil," Kristen said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Ivriniel knows that she's gone. But if we can find her before the war's ending, then we can avoid telling him the biggest part of the secret."

Slowly, Aranel nodded, agreeing to the plan.

* * *

"A what?" Ayla asked.

"A field trip," I clarified. "You guys have been doing so well with your training, I think it's time to put the practice in the field. So, I'm sending you all out on a field trip."

"You did not teach us to hunt," Helisa said. "Only to combat."

"It's a skill every soldier needs," I defended. "Look, I don't have a lot of men left in the Mark. And this man, Alanric, he did me and Éomer a huge favor once. The time has come for me to repay that debt."

"What did he do?" Yuri asked.

"That's not important," I said, looking around the room at the thirty women that encircled the barracks. "What's important is what you will learn from this. Go out into the world, see a bit of it. You're all of age have a right to do this and you won't even be doing it alone. You can pair up. He just needs to be found. I won't order you to do this, but I am asking a favor. I need him brought to Edoras."

There was a moment of hesitation before Helisa spoke. "Of course we will help you, your highness." And the rest spoke their agreements.

* * *

"Is this really you?" Aranel asked, running her fingers over the silver sheen of the helm.

Mine and Éomer's things had all been moved from Aldburg to Edoras after news of Thèoden's death had reached here. Frida had delivered it while also retrieving the temporary deed to Aldburg's fortress. Not like she wasn't already running the place, but Hemonbold had insisted it needed to be written out on paper to be legalized.

Aranel was looking at the helm Éomer had gifted to me the day Thèoden had named me an official Rider of Rohan. The illustrations of my fighting at Helm's Deep seemed to be exaggerated now with the passage of time. There's no way I had looked quite that fierce. I remembered that battle as a horror in my past. Not to mention I had barely trained or learned anything. Really, it's a wonder Aragorn had let me fight in the first place. I now completely understood Thèoden's reasoning that day, not wanting me to fight. It's a miracle I made it out of there alive.

"It's me," I confirmed. "But I don't trust how accurate it is. Éomer had it made for me. I doubt his memory of the battle was exact."

"What was it like?"

"Helm's Deep? Horrible. At least, that is how I remember it. Ten thousand Orcs against three hundred Men, two thousand Elves, and one Dwarf."

"This was the battle of the warrior women?" she asked, her eyes widening as she continued to survey the helm.

"Well, that's not what we call it here, but it was the first time since the Shieldmaidens of old that women in Rohan were allowed to fight in a battle."

"Stories of this battle have weaved their way through all corners of Gondor. When you said you had thirty good people available to look for Lottie, I did not think you meant women who were barely of age."

"They're all completely capable," I assured her. "The largest parties of Orcs were eradicated from the plains over a year ago and have yet to resurface. Rohan is safe now."

She put the hemp back on its stand, combing out the tiny knots in Theybrush's mane. "I have yet to express my gratitude for what you are doing," she muttered. "Not only are you helping to find Lottie, but you have given me a place to stay, despite my unfortunate traveling companion."

"After her lunch with my guardsman in the kitchens yesterday, I doubt she'll come back up here with more demands," I joked. Ivriniel had barged into my study yesterday, demanding a hot meal made up of food from Dol Amroth's traders. She and Aranel had only been here for three days, but the old woman had had more than her liking of Rohirric culture. And after her rude display, I had the cook make a meal of Dol Amroth goods for my guardsman and sent Ivriniel downstairs with them. The old woman had yet to show her face again, which was just fine by Aranel and me.

"How long will your girls search until they find her?" Aranel asked.

I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "I gave them each two weeks, then they'll return. Hopefully, this can all be over much sooner than that."


	51. Defense

_Chapter 13: Defense_

 _Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor_

 _Yuletide, TA 2030_

-Lothiriel-

Sneaking out of the palace was like second nature to me. Amrothos had taught me when we were little and we would skip lessons or practice in favor of time at the beach or riding our horses. These days, I was eternally grateful for Amrothos's tricks, for I found need to sneak out of the palace to go visit my special friend on special occasions. And today was certainly a special occasion.

Alanric had been in the city for nearly a month and in that time, I had secured him a job at the smithy. And that is where I found him on that festive night.

"How do you do that?" I asked, impressed by his latest creation. A double-handed sword with a leather grip and light, pristine metalwork.

"Back home, there were very few of us," he said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Everyone learned every skill necessary to keep our village running. Rangers all need good weapons, even the women. It was an essential skill, forging. My elder brother was always better at it than I was, though."

"I find that hard to believe," I muttered, running a finger lightly over the polished blade.

"You flatter me, princess," he said, grabbing the blade's sheath and securing it protectively. "But I must ask what you are doing here with me and not in the palace with your family. It is a holiday after all."

"I…do not traditionally celebrate Yule," I admitted. "At least, only as much as I have to. And Beriana has Alphros for his first Yule and Aranel is spending it with her father and brother."

"Yule was always my favorite holiday," he said slowly, wetting a cloth with water from a skin and running it up and down his filthy arms. "It was the one day a year my father and mother would not argue. My brothers and I would spend the whole proceeding week thinking of things we could make for our parents as gifts. We didn't worry about expectations or uncertain futures. And then there was the snow."

"I have never seen snow," I muttered, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a clean handkerchief he could use on his face. "All it does in the winter here is rain."

"But why not celebrate Yule?" he asked, accepting the handkerchief. "It is a time of merriment. To thank the Valar for the good that happened during the year and celebrate in that good."

"My mother died two nights before Yule when I was very young," I said, wrapping my arms around my stomach. "I do not find it in myself to thank them during this time of year."

Slowly, he lowered the cloth from his face. "I am sorry, princess. I did not mean for you to speak of such things."

"You needn't apologize. I am not afraid of talking about it. It is everyone else who cannot speak when it comes to her death. Elphir and Erchirion work every Yule to drive it from my father's memory, but he remembers. How could he forget? Amrothos joins me in not celebrating, yet he also refuses to speak of her."

"How did she die?"

"She was sting by a wasp while shopping in town for our gifts. She didn't even make it back to the palace."

He nodded, pulling on a jacket. "It does happen. I myself have been stung by wasps several times, yet I too know of some who succumbed to their stings. Bees as well."

"When I was little, I always wished it had been something more…dignified. But I was silly back then. I suppose it was hard for me to comprehend that a creature that can be ended by the sole of my boot killed my mother."

Alanric finished fastening the buttons of his jacket. "So I suspect you will return to the palace alone tonight?"

"I suppose I will. Our cook will have prepared something special, so there's always that to look forward too."

He let out a deep sigh, running his hand over his face. "I know I'm going to regret this," he said, reaching out his hand. "Would you do me the honor of spending Yule with me in the village, princess?"

I smiled, absolutely pleased by his offer, but I couldn't accept. "I'm not allowed into the village without a guard. No doubt my presence would dull any celebration you wish to attend."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't see why anyone has to know you are…well, you. There are nearly a dozen parties to choose from. Your dress is perfect attire for one of them. No one will know you are Princess Lothiriel."

"Except for the fact that you refuse to stop addressing me by my title, regardless of the fact that I have told you Lottie is preferable. Lothiriel is such a mouthful."

"Lottie then," he said, not lowering his hand. "But just for tonight."

A real party. Not those dull things Father would throw. I wouldn't have to worry about what I did or what I said. I could eat whatever I wanted and drink without Elphir breathing down my neck.

And while that was all exciting, it paled in comparison to Alanric's hopeful expression. Maybe he didn't want to spend Yule alone either…

-Alanric-

I never believed I would be in this position. A princess on my arm, leading her through streets that were only starting to become familiar to me. I had worried for a time that people would recognize her, but no one seemed to bat an eye in Lothiriel's direction. Or rather, Lottie's direction.

"Everything is so bright!" she said, looking up at the festive lanterns that had been hung over the streets.

"Have you never been to the village for Yule?" I asked, surprised. It seemed like she would at least know what happened down here.

"After my mother died, my family ventured into the village less and less. Really only Erchirion and Amrothos do it now. All of Erchirion's sailor friends live down here and Amrothos started coming to woo Aranel."

We stayed silent for the next few moments as we weaved in and out of the main streets. People were everywhere, sharing goods that on other days would have costed money. I knew it was a Gondorian custom for shopkeepers to give away their lesser-quality products during Yule. They would make no money from it and it did more good to give it to a stranger than throw it away. Lottie seemed taken with everything we passed.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her after a time. "There are plenty of places open."

"I would like to go to Aranel's father's bakery. I've never been," she said. "But we would probably run into her guard there. It wouldn't be smart."

"I think I know the shop," I said, moving our line of direction. "Perhaps I get a few things and you wait outside?"

She smile brightly. "That would be wonderful!"

When we reached the destination, it was clearly the new princess's establishment, for two swan-knights guarded the front door, eyeing patrons closely for threat or weapons. I left Lottie outside away from the guards who noted the sword on my hip as I passed through.

"We would appreciate it if you left your weapon with your lady friend," one of them muttered. I could tell he didn't mean for it to be threatening, but I wasn't keen on releasing my blade. "This establishment is run by the father of Princess Aranel," he explained. "We're not allowing any weapons into the bakery tonight."

Reluctantly, I nodded, unclipping the blade from my waist and walking it back to Lottie, who smirked at the expression on my face. "It is a bakery guarded by swan-knights," she said with humor. "I'm sure you won't need it in there."

"I know. I'll be right back."

She smirked again as I returned to the entrance of the bakery.

It smelled of flour, sugar, and fruit inside. A counter decorated festively was in the center. A happy man with a large belly who must have been the baker was behind it and smiled at me as I entered. I surveyed a number of treats before I realized that I didn't know what the princess liked in ways of food. I myself wasn't really one for sweets. In fact the pastries reminded me of Trover, who had the biggest sweet-tooth of anyone I knew.

"Looking for a treat?" the baker said to me as I surveyed his counter. "Everything here is on the house for Yule, though they might be a tad stale."

"I certainly wouldn't expect your best for free," I said.

"You looking for a lonely treat, or do you have a friend with you?" he asked.

"A friend waiting outside, though, I'm not sure what she would want."

"Try these," he said, pulling out a pastry lightly dusted with sugar. "My daughter's favorite."

"Alanric?" a much lighter voice asked from behind the baker.

"Princess Aranel," I greeted, bowing my head slightly.

"I must admit, I didn't expect to see you out and about tonight. You don't often leave the smithy I'm told."

"Yule is my favorite holiday, princess. I would never spend it cooped up."

"Or alone?" she asked. "Have you finally made some friends other than Lottie? Her advisors are considering getting rid of you. You take up so much of her time."

"It's not intentional," I defended. "It is she who visits the smithy, not I the palace."

"Calm yourself, daughter," the baker said. "I am sure Princess Lothiriel is not so incompetent she cannot handle a simple blacksmith. And the lad isn't alone. Said he had a friend just outside."

Aranel raised an eyebrow, but luckily didn't say anything as the baker wrapped the pastries. "Thank you," I said, taking the package.

"A happy Yule to you," he said with a slight bow of the head.

"Alanric," Aranel said as I started to turn. She came out from behind the counter and walked me into a corner. "I don't often have a chance to talk to you without Lothiriel present, so I want to take advantage of this. I've known Lottie for a year now and the last thing I want is to see anyone in pain."

"You think I would hurt her?"

"Lottie is…rebellious. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions. Four months ago she returned from Ithilian claiming to have fallen in love with a Rider of Rohan but a month later, she could not even remember his name."

"I'm sorry, my lady, but what are you trying to tell me?"

"I know you would never intentionally hurt her, but a day may come when she hurts you."

I found myself doubting her words. Perhaps Aranel had misunderstood Lothiriel's words when she returned from Ithilian. Lottie didn't seem capable of what she spoke of. "Thank you for the warning, Princess Aranel," I said. "But you seem to have misread my intentions with your sister-in-law."

"And what are those intentions, exactly?"

"Minimal," I answered simply before swiftly exiting the shop. As much as I had wanted to dislike Dol Amroth's royal family when I arrived here, Lottie had consumed me. I tried to tell myself that I had been doing my best to avoid her, but that wasn't true. If I wanted to avoid her, then I wouldn't have stayed in Dol Amroth.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew Lottie sought more in me than mere friendship. The fact that I wasn't pushing her away must have said something about how I felt. I liked making her laugh and having conversation that brought spark in her eyes. Mostly I liked how when I was around her I was no longer as lonely as I had been in the last year since Kelleth ran off and Trover decided to take on the title of a warrior. So what exactly were my intentions with the Dol Amroth princess? Right now it was the company of someone who also wanted my company, whether that was for innocent reasons or not.

Outside, Lottie was not where I had left her. I turned to the swan-knight who had warned me about my sword. "Where is the girl I left out here?"

"Shouldn't leave your women lying around for other men's taking," he muttered. "She went down the alley with some fellow over yonder."

I followed where his finger was pointing. If I lost her or something happened, it would be my head. This is exactly why I didn't mess around with royalty. Too many complications.

I bolted down the alley, worrying for her safety. Surely Lothiriel was not so stupid that she would wander around the city with shady strangers?

At the end of the alley, I found nothing. Debating whether to search right or left, the decision was made for me as I heard a man's voice yell out, "Take the blade then take the girl."

I bolted left and ran for what seemed like and age. Out of nowhere I could hear the clashing of metal and knew Lottie was trying to use my sword. She wouldn't last. She was just a Gondorian princess. What did she know about sword fighting?

Finally, I made it to the scene. But it wasn't the horrors I had conjured in my mind of her demise.

Lottie was holding her own against three men. One was already on the ground, his nose cascading with blood. Another, I watched as the tip of my sword skidded across his hand, causing him to drop his blade. The third stood dumbstruck as her blade moved in his direction. "Bloody bitch," he snarled, backing away from her blade.

"Don't assume you can just take whatever you fancy," she said, motioning with the tip of her sword to the ally. "Run. Take your friends with you."

No sooner had the threat escaped her mouth the man grabbed around the middle of the one with the bleeding nose and his friend with the injured hand followed down the dark alleyway.

She pulled a handkerchief out of her breast and wiped off the blood on the blade. "The balance could be better," she muttered, handing it back to me clean. "Sorry you had to see that. It wasn't proper."

"It's just…" I stumbled, lost for words at what I had just witnessed. Lady Rachel commanding a sword was one thing. I had expected it of her, what with her story and reputation, but a Gondorian princess was something completely different.

"Elphir taught me," she said quietly motioning for me to sheath the sword. "I had thought I would never use the talent, but then again, I never expected to be running around the streets of the city at night with a stranger."

I was still too baffled to say anything, but she didn't seem to mind. I followed her out of the alley and she turned to me when we reached the streetlamps. "Was Aranel in the shop?"

I didn't think my voice would come back, but luckily it did. "She was."

"What did she say about me?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why would she mention you?"

"I only know she doesn't always approve of me. She often thinks me silly. She doesn't appreciate me leaving Beriana with all of my duties. I only wish to know what she said."

I wanted to lie and avoid the subject of Aranel all together, but after seeing the princess's hand at a sword, I didn't fancy being on the other end of it. Not that I couldn't beat her. There was no way her skills outmatched those of Lady Rachel, but I couldn't exactly best her. She was the princess after all.

"She suggested to me that your advancements towards our friendship are not those of a friend. She…she suggested you would want more."

"That is a rather bold statement," she muttered, continuing down the alley. "I don't suppose you agreed with her?"

"That is a trick question," I answered. I was not unfamiliar with the way a woman could twist words into something they did not mean.

She gave another one of her smirks. "I know this may not be the best time to discuss it, but I do like you, Alanric. I enjoy spending time with you."

I felt my palms grow sweaty. "Why bring it up now, then?"

"I suppose after an encounter like that back in the alley can remind you that there's no time like the present." I said nothing, so she continued. "If you want to end our friendship after that reveal, I would not blame you, Alanric. After speaking with Aranel, you have probably concluded many things about this silly, little princess. I would only ask that you escort me back to the palace smithy so I can return to my home."

"I don't want to end our friendship," I admitted. "I only worry about the consequences in store for me because of it."

"So you would not reject my advances?"

"Again, it is the consequences I worry about, Lottie."

She grinned. "What could possibly go wrong?"


	52. Huntress

_Chapter 13: Huntress_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age 3021, March_

-Rachel-

"Your Highness," Dormund said, walking through the open door of my study. "Ceorl has just arrived with letters from the campaign."

My head shot up from Frida's letter I had been reading. "Where is he? He normally delivers the letters himself."

"Well, that is the good news, Your Highness," he said, laying the pile on my desk. "The campaign has ended. Ceorl has been released to his family for celebrations."

My jaw nearly dislodged itself from my face, it fell so fast. "It's over?"

"Yes, it is over," he said with a warm smile. "Éomer King and the rest of the eoreds will be returning in three weeks, according to Ceorl."

I felt as if I should be more excited, but I was simply stunned. "That's it?" I asked, "One letter and it's all over?"

Dormund chuckled. "You are not used to sitting behind a desk during a war, are you, my lady?"

"Can't say that I am."

"Well, that's how it works when our side wins. It's all over in a letter."

"So, what happens now?"

He looked a little confused. "We continue on, I suppose. Rohan still needs to be run."

And, to be honest, he had a good point.

* * *

"Are you not excited, my lady?" Aaryn asked as she changed the sheets on my bed.

"Of course I'm excited," I answered, pretty tired of everyone asking me that question. "I only wish I didn't have this whole Lothiriel mess going on while the eoreds are returning."

"I imagine that multiple focuses and responsibilities come with being queen."

I let out a harsh breath. "You have no idea, Aaryn."

"Your girls are due back in two days and none have returned with Princess Lothiriel," she said, fluffing a pillow. "I know the topic causes you stress, but what if they return with no news of the princess. Will her aunt and sister-in-law leave then?"

"More than likely," I answered. "It's probably for the best. Éomer doesn't need this on his plate the day he returns."

"Too right, my lady."

* * *

-Helisa-

Nothing. No leads for nearly two weeks. Ayla, Yuri, and I had been nearly everywhere searching for some kind of clue as to the whereabouts of Princess Lothiriel, but had come up short the entire journey.

"We'll need to start heading back to Edoras tomorrow," Ayla said on our twelfth night on the road. "The Queen will be disappointed, but we did the best we could."

"She'll understand," Yuri said, stoking the fire I had made. "We don't even know if the Gondorian princess is in the Mark. Even if she truly ran away with a commoner, why would she come here?"

"I just hate to return empty handed," I muttered, turning the wild turkey Ayla had shot over on its spike.

"You could return having lost Rachel's prized possessions and still, she would adore you," Yuri muttered, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"I did not ask for the position the Queen has placed upon me," I snapped. "I only took her training because my father wanted it."

"Yes, your father is old and frail with nothing but young daughters and no suiters or sons to look after them," Ayla said. "We are not criticizing you, Helisa. We only state what we observe. And we observe that our new Queen favors you. And how could she not after you saved her life."

"Rumor has it that she offered you a reward. Is it true?" Yuri asked.

I twitched uncomfortably. My companions may believe that Queen Rachel thinks I possess greater skill than her other pupils, but the truth is I am a horrible liar. "I do not wish to discuss my personal matters with the Queen."

Naturally, they didn't like that answer at all. Fortunately, I was saved further humiliation as a light shown in the distance.

"What ho!" the light called.

Yuri squinted her vision towards the torchlight in the late evening air. "It's two travelers, it seems."

"They may not be friendly," I muttered.

Ayla grinned. "There are two of them and three of us with the training of the Bowmaiden. Let them try to be more than hungry travelers."

Arrive they did. Two travelers, a man with brown hair, a thin beard and a sword at his belt. And a woman, younger than he and rather beautiful. Or, at least she would have been had her clothes fitted her properly and her hair not so disheveled, her face somewhat sunken.

"Glad we happened upon you," said the man, gesturing his companion onto a rock to sit. "My wife and I have been traveling for two days with little rest. We have some bread to share if you're willing to reciprocate with your meat there."

"Rohirrim are always willing to share on the road," Yuri said, continuing to poke at the fire.

"Why travel with so little? Or are you planning on stopping at an inn?" Ayla asked.

"Perhaps we will take to an inn tomorrow night," the man said, but I noticed the woman twitch at his words and wrap her arms around her stomach. Hmm.

"There is an inn not two miles in the direction you came from," I said. "Eastemment is a friendly village. And, no offence, miss," I turned to his wife. "You look rather travel-worn. The roads of the Mark are safe, that is assured, but they are not easy to walk. We are a land of horses after all."

"I am fine," she said. Her accent was different from his. More astute and proper. "I am not used to traveling, but I am fine."

"You should at least procure horses," Ayla said, sitting down for the first time. "My cousin owns a ranch in Eastemment. He would surely gift horses at a reasonable rate."

"We need no horses," the man said, a little too quickly.

I did not trust this man. His wife did not seem to trust him either. Her body was turned away from him, her arms covering her stomach unwaveringly. She seemed all too uncomfortable with his closeness. Something was wrong.

Yuri was suspicious as well. She pointed to her hand when the man and woman were not looking. I raised an eyebrow and her eyes jolted to the man's hands and back. They were gloved.

Alanric, Son of Kellric held a tattoo of the Northern Rangers on the back of his right hand. That is what Rachel told us. Brown hair, thin stature, and a sword with a handle of iron. The sword at his hip was hilted with a basic silver metal, however. But swords can change over time.

Princess Lothiriel was described by Aranel to be nineteen years and beautiful with waist-length black hair and gray eyes. This girl's hair was at least a foot shorter than that. Her eyes were too blood-shot to make out the color in the firelight. But hair can be cut and travel can show wear on the body.

Yuri and I stood up, surprising the couple and Ayla. "Sir," Yuri said politely. "Could you please remove your gloves?"

The man's eyes flashed. "Excuse me."

"Remove your gloves," she repeated.

"I will do no such thing."

"Sir, we are under the command of the Queen of Rohan, Under-king in her husband's absence," I said. "Remove your gloves."

He was not happy. "All I asked for was company and a shared meal. I did not even comment that you are three females traveling the Riddermark alone at night. I don't care whose command you are under. I am not Rohirric. I do not follow your royalty's rule."

"Princess Lothiriel?" Ayla asked, placing a gentle hand on his companion's shoulder. The dark-haired girl flinched, but reacted to the name. Yes, this was her. "Princess are you alright? Are you safe?"

"She is no princess," the man shouted. The man I now knew to be Alanric, Son of Kellric. "She is my wife, a girl from Dale I married a year ago."

"You are so defensive, sir," Ayla said calmly. "But Men of Dale do not have gray eyes and pale skin." She turned back to Lothiriel. "Answer my question, princess. Are you alright?"

Her bloodshot eyes landed back on Alanric. "My name is Lottie," she muttered. "I am his wife."

"Princess," Ayla said. "We were sent to scout for you by Queen Rachel and Princess Aranel. At least confirm you are safe so we may tell her."

This was Ayla's strategy. She was a charmer, a liar. Much better than me. There was no way we would let Lothiriel or this man go. It was against our orders.

The princess said nothing and Ayla reached for the bobble at her neck. "This is the figure of a swan," she muttered. "A commoner from Dale would not wear something so beautiful and delicate."

"Enough of this," Alanric said, reaching for Lothiriel and grabbing her arm roughly. "We're on our way. Do not think to follow. Do not think that I am above protecting what is mine, even if I need to protect it from three little girls."

Yuri and Ayla moved fast as lightning, Yuri pulling a short-sword from her hip and Ayla producing a knife. My weapons were not attached to me. I favored the bow. But if Rachel had taught me anything, it was always keep a knife in your boot.

Knife quickly in hand, we held them pointed at the Ranger. "You know the Bowmaiden, sir," Yuri said. "Know her skills with battle and weaponry. There is a reason she sent us."

"You cannot think she would keep those skills to herself," Ayla said, her eyes watching his hand on Lothiriel's arm. "And we're more than willing to use them to help a fellow maiden in distress."

He seemed to have lost his voice. "Drop her arm," I commanded. He obeyed.

"That was much easier than I imagined," Yuri commented, keeping her eyes on Alanric.

"He knows Rachel's talents," I said, motioning for him to remove his sword. "He is no fool."

"What happens now?" he asked, handing the weapon to Ayla.

"We complete our mission," I said, placing my knife firmly back in my boot.


	53. Torture

_Chapter 14: Torture_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age, 3012, April_

-Rachel-

Dormund informed me of their return that morning. Helisa, Ayla, and Yuri were waiting for me in the hall with Alanric and Princess Lothiriel. My doorward had no other information.

I retrieved Kristen and an anxious Aranel before heading down there. The new Gondorian princess practically ran to the hall and the three of us sprinted, leaving Flynn with a nanny.

Instantly, when I opened the door, I knew things were wrong. My eyes landed on Lothiriel first. At least, I assumed it was Lothiriel. Her cascades of black hair had been cut to just below her shoulders, its sheen dampened from wear and tear on the road. Her clothes were not the grand gowns she had worn in Ithilian, but a raggedy brown dress under a worn shawl. Both had once been expensive materials, but were now worth little to nothing in their soiled condition. She looked tired and weak and almost rejuvenated as she spotted Aranel and fell into her sister-in-law's arms and wept.

It was embarrassing to watch and I looked away, my eyes landing on Ayla. A sword, much too big for her small form, was at her hip beside her two short swords. I raised an eyebrow, but neither she nor Helisa or Yuri noticed, for all three pair of eyes were on Alanric.

He was always an angry guy. Pompous and annoying to a fault. However, I had thought him to be a good guy. Perhaps not as good as his younger brother, but still he had helped me out of the most difficult situation in my life without any promise or demand of compensation or gratitude. The look on his face now betrayed that. His eyes flamed into Lothiriel's back as she sunk to the floor, Aranel's arms supporting her on the way down. The look he gave her was possessive, angry, and…well scary.

I had assumed Lothiriel had fallen in love with this Ranger and ran away with him. It was the only thing that made sense. I didn't know Lothiriel very well, but what I did know was that she was a romantic. She was in love with the idea of love. And for a girl who was destined to marry whomever her father told her to, I couldn't blame her one bit. But the look Alanric gave her was not a look of love. No, Alanric's eyes said that he owned that tiny princess and Aranel had no right to hold her like family. And that made me furious.

Without thinking, I grabbed the Ranger's bicep, pulling him towards the door that lead to the kitchens. I didn't want to be bothered. The girls and Kristen looked surprised, but I did nothing to explain my thinking. There was a story here, a dark one, and I wanted the details.

He protested at first. He was much larger than I and fought against my force, but I tightened my grip, digging my fingernails into the flesh beneath his thin shirt and as I felt his skin break there, he quit resisting and let me lead him out of the hall.

In the privacy of the stairwell, a torch lighting the windowless area, his eyes flamed with anger. "Lady Rachel," he greeted maliciously. "Or I suppose Queen Rachel now."

"What happened?" I demanded.

"Not even a hello for an old friend?" he teased.

I took a deep breath. I would not let him rile me. "I don't think you deserve a hello. I definitely don't think you deserve my friendship. Tell me what happened in Dol Amroth, Alanric."

"What do you plan to do with me, your highness?" he sneered. "Lock me in a cell with little to no food? You don't have the right to this information and you know that. I don't care how far you've risen in power during this war. You will always be a scared little girl who runs away from her problems. That is all you are to me and it is all you ever will be."

I let him finish. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was something I needed to hear. Regardless, when his mouth closed, my fist met his jaw, forcing his body to slam against the wall, drawing blood where his head met the stone there. He regained balance, though and spit the blood out of his mouth. I clutched at my own hand, pain seething through the punch I landed. "Kelleth was right," he muttered, blood staining his teeth. "Quite the backhand for such a tiny creature."

I reached up and grabbed a clump of his hair with my other hand, opening the door and pulling him out. "Guards!" I called. They were always nearby and Gareth and Rimbon came round the corner. "Watch him," I snarled, throwing him onto the ground.

They both looked confused, but I didn't have time for this. What the hell was going on?

"We traveled northwest, as you instructed," Yuri explained. "And found them on the road as soon as we decided to turn back."

"It was quite the coincidence, actually," Ayla noted. "I think they were headed for the North to meet with the other Rangers."

"But why take his sword?" I asked. "Clearly something has happened to him. He is not the Alanric I remember."

Not a single one of the three girls looked happy that I wanted a report of their journey. In fact, they looked downright uncomfortable when I motioned for them to follow me out of the hall and into my study.

"She was scared of him," Helisa muttered. "They were traveling under false names as a married couple. But they shared no rings. Ayla saw the princess's necklace. Alanric had claimed she was from Dale. He tried to take her away, even though she clearly was too travel worn. And we…reacted."

"So you took his weapons and came straight here? You traveled with them for four days and all you can tell me is that Lothiriel was scared of him."

"Your highness," Ayla said softly. "The princess is pregnant."

Kristen, who was sitting in a chair in a corner, nearly choked. And me? Well, I think my first instinct was to laugh and if I hadn't been so pissed at Alanric, I probably would have. Not because I thought this was funny. No, this was the complete opposite of funny. This was just ironic.

"She told you this?" I asked.

"She didn't trust us at first," Yuri said. "But after the second day I think she began to see that we had her best interest at heart. And she told us she had run away with the Ranger because she was carrying his child."

It made sense. What else was she going to do? She was a princess from a noble kingdom, the highest born female in Middle-earth without a husband. I mean, what did I do when I thought I was going to give birth to a bastard child? The politics of this world had taken over inside me and I ran from my problems, all the way to Rivendell. Because what other choice did Lothiriel or I have?

I nodded, understanding the root of the story, but there was still the matter of Alanric. "Is that all Lothiriel told you?" I asked.

"Only directly," Yuri answered. "We assumed the rest."

"What did you assume?" Kristen asked.

The three instantly looked uncomfortable. "There are marks on the princess's forearms that look like bruises from clutching fingers," Yuri said. She seemed to be the least scared of this situation. "She refused to sleep at night unless someone was awake to watch the Ranger. When he moved suddenly, she would flinch."

"You can probably guess what we assumed, your highness," Ayla finished.

I felt pain in the palms of my hands and I looked down to see that my fingernails had nearly broken the flesh. With every word that came out of Yuri's mouth, my fingers clutched deeper and deeper.

"Thank you, ladies," I said through gritted teeth. Kristen looked angry as well, but I probably looked like She-Hulk in comparison. "Go home. Be with your families. You deserve it."

They knew better than to ask if I was okay. They stood from their chairs. Only Helisa looked back. "Will there be a usual lesson tomorrow, your highness."

"No, Helisa. I don't think there will be a lesson for some time," I said, grabbing a knife from the drawer of my desk and sliding it into my boot.

* * *

-Kristen-

I had never seen Rachel look that terrifying. When the girls left, she pulled a knife from the drawer of her desk, running it alongside a cloth from her pocket before placing it in her boot. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting some answers," she said, pulling a band from her pocket and pulling her hair into a ponytail.

"Why do you need a knife?"

"I always need a knife when it comes to Northern Rangers. I've only met one I ever liked and he wouldn't begrudge any method to getting answers."

"You mean Elessar?" I asked. "Rachel, you're scaring me."

"I'm not going to hurt him," she said. "Even though I probably should."

"Rachel, those girls are children. They may not know what they saw."

"I don't care. No one deserves that, Kristen. No one." And she walked out the door.

Gordion was an old horse, but he still had some oomph left in those hoofs of his. Faramir was on his way to Edoras and was due to arrive tonight at dinner. With the news of the ending war, Elessar has written that he intended to accompany Éomer home before coming back to Minas Tirith. Faramir was bringing Arwen to meet him here. In most situations, I didn't know what to do. Ever since I landed in this place, I've had no clue. Faramir is always the one to help me and guide me. And I needed him now, more than ever.

By some miracle, his party was just crossing over Rohan's border when I found them just after sunset, making camp for the night.

"Princess Kristen?" a guard called out confused as I rode out Gordion's last burst of energy.

Faramir was instantly on his feet and I could see his confused face as I heeled Gordion, dismounting and running towards him. "Kristen?" he asked, grabbing my forearms and holding me tight, looking into my eyes. "What is going on? Where is Flynn? Why have you left Edoras?"

"Something's happened," I said. "And I don't know what to do."

I thought he'd be angry. Lothiriel was his cousin after all, and a dear one at that. But he wasn't angry. He was furious.

"Alanric, Son of Kellric?" he snarled. "A Ranger from the North?"

I nodded. Not often did Faramir lose his cool, but when he did…wow.

He stood, pulling open the flap of his tent. "Anborn!" he called.

The Ranger came out from the crowd, walking slowly toward Faramir. "Captain?"

"Do you know a Ranger by the name Alanric?"

"Aye, Captain. Good lad. He was in Ithilian a few months ago. Said he was just stopping in. He was headed to Belfalas, I think."

Faramir dropped the flap in Anborn's face, turning back to me. "Is Lottie safe?"

"She's with Aranel. Ivriniel is in Meduseld as well but Rachel's done a good job of keeping her in her room. I worry about what she'll do if she finds out, though."

"Forgive me," a voice tinkled from the flap in the tent. It was Arwen. My breath always caught when I saw her. She was always urethrally beautiful and, I'm not too proud to admit this, I resented her for it. She walked into the tent, a hand gently resting on her expanding belly. "May I ask a question about the situation?"

"Of course, your grace," Faramir said.

"Has anyone talked to Lothiriel of this matter? Or even the man in question?"

"Rachel was on her way to talk to Alanric when I left," I said, turning to my husband. "Faramir, I'd never seen her like that. She was so…angry. She doesn't even know Lottie. Why would she rush to her defense?"

"Perhaps, in the morning, we arrive at Meduseld and sort it out," Arwen suggested. "Istel and the rest of the troops are on their way. If a solution cannot be found within their return, then we have two just kings who can discuss what to do."

"But Rachel's taking action now!"

"Kristen, how can you be sure she'll actually do anything?"

"She's the freaking Bowmaiden, Faramir. I don't know what she'll do!"

How could he not see that, though Rachel was my best friend in this whole universe, I really didn't know her anymore?


	54. Puzzle

_Chapter 16: Puzzle_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age 3021, April_

-Rachel-

I walked back to the hall, anger flowing through my every vein. How could anyone commit such a crime? And Alanric at that. I had trusted this man with my life once upon a time. He took care of me as much as he could while still respecting my wishes and choices. He was a good man and I didn't know what could have happened to make him turn like this.

I was going to find out.

I found him where I left him, holding a cloth to the wound on his head I had caused. I turned to Rimbon. "Take him to the dungeons," I said.

"Your highness," he muttered, taking a step forward. "Is everything alright?"

"Dungeons," I commanded again. "Now."

With confusion, he nodded, grabbing Alanric by his bicep and pulling him in the direction of the prison beneath the Golden Hall.

Dormund had been at the door to the hall, watching as Rimbon and Gareth took Alanric away. I turned to him. "Where is Princess Lothiriel?"

"Princess Aranel took her to her room, your grace," he said. "She said she wished Lady Ivriniel not be informed of her niece's appearance at this time."

"I agree," I said, taking a deep breath and trying to regain some sense. But the anger was still too powerful. "Dormund, I know you hate that woman, but I really need her occupied at the moment."

"Of course," he said. "Your grace, I hate to be uncouth, but are you alright?"

I took another breath, more of a sigh this time. "I just hate discovering that someone I once trusted was a monster."

"What did he do?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to figure that out."

* * *

"What happened?" I asked, pacing the length of the dungeon floor. Rimbon stood to the side, leaning against the stone wall. Alanric sat on the floor, looking into the distance. I grabbed the bars of his cell, clutching them as tight as I could. "You will tell me."

"No one sees fit to tell me anything," he muttered, his eyes not leaving the wall. "So I think I will leave you in the dark."

"You ruined her life. Took her virginity which you knew wasn't yours to take. Did you really think you'd get away with this?"

"You think I am to blame for this, but it doesn't occur to you that the princess made choices of her own. And when what she wanted resulted in a child, my child, you would take away what is rightfully mine."

"You hurt her. Forced her out of her home. There are bruises on her arms and she cowers away from you in fear. You're not telling me everything, Alanric. I want to know why you would do that to her."

"Why would no one tell me of Claire's engagement to a Dol Amroth prince?" he asked, his eyes leaving the wall for the first time, staring down my own. "Not even Claire had the decency to properly sway my feelings. So why should I care about Lothiriel's? No one cares of mine."

Then it clicked. "You love Claire?"

"And she loves another. Quite the pair the two of you are. But at least you had the decency to sway Kelleth's advances. Claire would hold me on a string hoping that her future trip to the West would save her from having to break my heart."

And it made sense. It didn't excuse what he did, but at least the puzzle was coming together.

* * *

Aranel's room was not far from my own. I worked my way over to that hall, breathing deep, trying to rid all the confusion from my body before going to see Lothiriel. She didn't need to see me as a near-stranger grappling for answers to a giant puzzle. She needed sturdy rocks when Alanric couldn't be that for her.

I knocked on the door and a response came quicker than I expected. Aranel cracked the door open, giving me a thankful look. "That you so much for all you have done," she said in a near whisper. "Gondor is in your debt, truly."

"How is Lothiriel?" I asked.

"She is unfit to see any visitors, I'm afraid."

"That may be, Aranel, but I need to talk to her."

"I'm sorry, but Lottie is—,"

"I want to talk to her," Lothiriel said from inside, her voice shaking.

Aranel nodded, opening the door and letting me in. Lothiriel sat in the center of the bed. Aranel had lent her a nightgown and brushed out her hair. But she still didn't look like the Lothiriel I knew. Her spirit was gone. Where was the girl whose flirtatious eyes lit up the room? Where was her laughter in the lines of her face?

"Princess," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "The three girls that found you and Alanric in the Mark? Did they explain who they were?"

She didn't answer with words. Instead, she lunged across the bed, her arms wrapping around my torso, burying her head in my chest like a small child would. Her small form shook with tears beneath my own and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her, holding her in the position. Above her head I could see Aranel mouth a thank you before stepping outside of the room.

"Lottie," I muttered, testing out the nickname for the first time. "What happened?" She continued to shake. "I know it may be hard to talk about but there's nothing I can do unless I know what happened."

"Did they tell you?" she whispered through the tears.

"Did who tell me what?"

"I told them. They must have told you."

I assumed she meant the pregnancy. "Yes, Lottie, I know."

I felt her head nod yes. "What am I going to do?"

She had a point. She was from Gondor. Not only was she from Gondor, but she was the highest born noble female in Gondor. Her entire future was based around finding a suitable husband and keeping herself pure. To use her status to ensure the future of her country.

"I can't help you if I don't have the full story. I know it will be hard, but you must tell me what transpired between you and Alanric."

She pulled back, rubbing a fist into her eye like a toddler. "I…I wanted a way out," she mumbled, and I could tell she was doing her best to keep the tears from overtaking her. "After the war I thought the responsibilities of ruling Dol Amroth had left for good. But when King Elessar summoned my family to Rhûn, I was back in my father's place. And all of a sudden, there was this man. An exotic man from the far North who could take me away from it all."

"And did he?"

"He wanted little to do with me. I sensed he loved another, and I was right. But I pushed myself in his direction. It's all my fault." And then the tears were back, her arms wrapped around her chest.

"Breathe, Lottie, just breathe," I said, rubbing small circles into her back.

"When he learned I was…with child…he told me I had to come with him. That I didn't have a choice. I belonged to him now. And the baby. And there was no one I could tell. No one who could help me."

"And he hurt you?"

Her answer was to sink her head even lower and breathe even faster.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked after she calmed.

"Do with you?" I asked, confused.

"I'm a disgrace. I don't belong inside a noble house."

"Hey," I said, laying a gentle finger beneath her chin and forcing her to look in my eyes. "Just because you made a mistake doesn't mean you shouldn't be treated like a person. This isn't the end of the world, Lottie."

"My father will cast me out. Gondor will never accept me or a bastard child."

"Lottie, do you want this baby?"

For the first time, she looked at me at her own accord. "I…I don't know."

I smiled gently. "That's fine. No one said we needed to make any decisions yet."

"What will you do with Alanric?"

"King Elessar will be here any day now with my husband and your father. Faramir should be here soon as well. How about we leave his fate to them?"

"My father is coming here?" she gasped.

"Lottie, he is your father," I said. "No matter what you have done, he loves you. He may be angry at first, but something you'll come to learn is that parents really do put their children first and their love for their child cannot be undone by a simple mistake."

Bitterly, she turned her head from me. "You are too Rohirric, Queen Rachel."

She didn't understand. I mean, she couldn't know how much I understood. I had been in her position. It was by some strange twist of fate that her future had not been mine.

But, then again, Éomer would have found me. Had I not lost the twins, he would have found me and we would have wed regardless and the children wouldn't have been titled bastards. She couldn't be with Alanric. She shouldn't be with Alanric.

For the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to be completely and utterly alone. I doubted Aranel knew of Lottie's pregnancy just yet, but in Lottie's eyes, she would soon lose what she viewed as her closest and only ally. I was practically a stranger. I couldn't play for her team just yet. She assumed her father and brothers would cast her aside. And Claire…well that allegiance must have been lost when Lottie figured out her true connection to Alanric.

I ignored the conflicts in my mind, pushed them aside for the time being. "I've sent Alanric to the dungeons. In laying his hand on you, he has made himself a criminal. Spousal abuse is illegal in Rohan. But since he is not one of my citizens, there is little I can do beyond keeping him until Elessar arrives."

"I cannot be alone with him in this Hall," she muttered.

"I'll send a member of my guard up. Don't worry, Lottie. We'll get this sorted. You have me on your side."

* * *

 _Two days later_

-Éomer-

The rolling hills, the whistling winds, the smell of grass and flowers. I had never been happier to return to my home. Edoras could be seen in the distance as Aragorn rode beside me. Would Rachel be waiting for me on Meduseld's steps as my mother would wait for my father on the steps of Aldburg's fortress?

"You look nervous, my friend," Aragorn said as we neared the gates of the city.

"I am re-entering a place that was my home for so long as a new man. They no longer will see me as Éomer here. Now I am King."

"Do not fret. You have an entire country that will support you in this transition and a wonderful wife by your side to make it easier. No doubt she has already lightened the load for you."

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Riding into the city was something out of a dream and not a pleasant one. Heads of Erolingas bowed in my direction as we rode through the streets. "Hail Éomer King!" was shouted from person to person. Soldiers jumped from their horses to greet their wives and families. I didn't know how to receive them. We had won this battle, yes. But my uncle's body lay in a carriage behind me. Could they not understand the guilt of his death was like a stench in the air?

I looked upon the terrace of Meduseld where I had last seen her, thinking—wishing—that she was waiting for me there. But she was not. Kristen and Faramir stood there instead, Baby Flynn held in his mother's arms, waving at the excitement on the streets.

I descended Firefoot and practically ran up the steps of the Golden Hall. "Welcome home, Éomer King," Faramir said, motioning for me to walk inside before bowing to his own king.

"Where is my wife?" I demanded, interrupting his greeting to Aragorn. Faramir was only putting on pleasantries for Aragorn, but I would not extend the curtesy. They both new where my priorities were.

"She's inside, Éomer. Arwen is with her," Kristen answered. Every one of my senses tingled. Something was amiss, my instincts screamed it.

No one could be seen in the hall. The smell of a feast wafted up from the kitchens and my mouth watered. I had not tasted a home cooked meal since before I had left for the east.

I made my way through the hall before a voice stopped me. "Welcome home, Eomer King." It was Dormund, sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. "Her highness is in a guest's chambers on the southern corridor," he continued, knowing what I wanted. I quickly nodded thanks and heard him call "It is good to see you home safe, sire." I didn't have it in me to respond now that I knew where my wife was located.

Why would Rachel be in a guest's chambers at this time? I was not a conceited man, but surely my return after seven months was just as important to her as it was to me. Perhaps something was amiss with Arwen. Kristen had said the two were together.

In the south corridor, I could hear voices behind one of the doors. Arwen's tinkling trill drifted through the cracks in a closed door and it occurred to me that Arwen was not normally housed in the southern corridor when she and Aragorn visited. Again, that feeling of foreboding entered my mind and I wondered what had been concocted for me in my first official day as king.

"You need to calm down, young one," Arwen said. "Take slower breaths so that your color can return." I could hear a high-pitched breath coming from inside nearing hyperventilation.

"Arwen is right," I could hear Rachel say, and immediately the sound of her voice had my heart lifted higher than it had been in months.

I didn't care who the two were talking to. I thrust the door open, too impatient to wait on her.

Inside, my eyes met the sight of Rachel and Arwen standing around a bed. A smaller creature with tears in her eyes was being comforted by Aaryn on the bed. Though she looked different, more disheveled and grown-up, it was Princess Lothiriel.

"Eomer!" Rachel shouted, jumping into my arms. I caught her, ignoring the others in the room and wrapped my arms tightly around her frame, pulling her into my chest where she fit like the most perfect puzzle piece. I breathed in the scent of her hair, the smell of flowers that grew by the rivers. But she didn't stay there long enough. She pulled back all too soon.

"Eomer, we need to go," she said, grasping my forearms and attempting to turn me towards the door.

"I won't argue, love, but we should see Arwen and Princess Lothiriel to their families. Then we can go."

"No, Eomer. Arwen can do that. She's capable." She continued to try and turn me, but I was much larger than her.

I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the princess, who had grabbed one of the pillows and placed it in front of her like a shield. Arwen had not budged and stood as still as only an Elf could. Aaryn had also stayed still, though she looked ready to bolt for the door.

"What is going on?" I asked the women.

"Eomer, I'll explain everything, but we should leave this room first," Rachel insisted. I looked back at her. Her face was flushed and she seemed out of breath. Her eyes held a look of worry and anxiety I had not thought would be there upon my return. It scared me enough to listen to her request and I allowed her hands to move me out of the chamber and into the hall.

"Are you going to explain why you look as if a thousand Orcs were at our doorstep?" I asked, as she shut the door behind her.

"You're not going to ask why Lothiriel is here?" she said, walking down the hall towards the staircase that lead to our chambers in the western corridor.

"I assumed you or Claire had invited her to see her family's return to the West."

"Claire's not here," she said, entering the staircase. "Claire hasn't been seen since November. And I didn't invite Lottie here."

"Is it Lottie now? I thought you disliked the young princess."

She reached the top of the stairs before answering. "I may have misjudged her." She led us into our room and took a deep breath before turning back to me, her eyes still worried. "This isn't how I wanted your return to go."

"Nor I," I admitted, grabbing her hand. "Rachel, you must tell me what is wrong. If you did not invite Lothiriel here, then why is she?"

"Aranel, Amrothos's new wife, came here three weeks ago, asking if we'd seen Lottie. She thought Lottie would run to Claire and she thought Claire was here with me. I later learned that Lottie was in the company of Alanric, Son of Kellric."

"One of the brothers who helped you reach Rivendell?" I asked.

"Yeah. The one who sent Erkenbrand back to you," she said, sitting down at her vanity chair. "He's not as trustworthy as I had thought. He forced her to travel on foot to the North. I sent scouts out to search the Riddermark for them. Luckily, they were found."

"He forced her?"

She nodded. "We found her with bruises on her body. And…"

I knelt down beside her. Clearly we had reached the climax of the story. "And what, love?"

"She's pregnant," she muttered. "I sent her sister-in-law and aunt home yesterday. Aranel didn't want to go, but we couldn't have Ivriniel figure it out. We lied and told her Lothiriel hadn't been found. That old hag was ecstatic to leave."

"I don't understand," I said. "If this man forced himself on Lothiriel, why would she try to hide it from her family?"

"Remember what happened to Hilda?" she asked. "Even in Rohan, once she was spoiled, she wasn't worth a good marriage."

"But things have changed since then. She isn't responsible for another man's cruel actions."

"Gondor isn't Rohan, Eomer. I don't know what her father will say when he finds out. And Alanric didn't rape her. At least, not the first time. Neither will talk of the time that transpired between their leaving Dol Amroth."

"The Princess of Dol Amroth willingly gave her virginity to a Ranger from the North?"

"She's not like other people there," Rachel said, pulling her hands from mine and crossing them over her chest. "I can see why her father thought she would make a good fit as Rohan's Queen."

"Rachel," I muttered, confused by the entire situation, but especially that choice of words. "What does that have to do with anything? Why bring that up?"

"This never would have happened to her had I never come here," she said, her arms getting tighter. "Nothing ever goes right. Theoden still died. Eowyn is gone. Claire will hate me forever because I encouraged a relationship with a man she cannot be with. And now Lothiriel's future is ruined."

"Rachel-,"

"It's not fair!" she shouted, standing and pacing the room frantically. "I don't care what Gandalf says. It's not fucking fair. Not to me or Claire or Lothiriel. It's not even fair to you!"

I grabbed her shoulders and quit her pacing. She tried to fight me, but it was no use. I knew her strength. It didn't take long for her to stop fighting, though and she collapsed into my arms almost immediately. "I'm so tired," she said with an exhale and the shaking of tears. "I'm so tired, Eomer."

"I know," I said, stroking her back gently, letting both of us sink slowly to the floor. "It's been a very long seven months. We are both tired."

"I need to greet Aragorn," she said, trying to steady her voice.

"He will forgive you," I assured her. "You have taken on too many burdens, love. He will forgive you."

"I'm sorry. This wasn't what was supposed to happen."

"Don't apologize."

"I wanted it to be a celebration. I even had a feast cooked."

"A feast that will still taste amazing once you've recovered."

"I'm sorry."

And while I wasn't exactly mad at her, I found I deserved that apology.


	55. Wedding Part II

_Chapter 17: Wedding Part II_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age, 3021 April_

-Rachel-

I'm a crap person. Don't worry, I'm well aware. And Eomer was too good to me. I didn't greet any of our guests upon their arrival. I didn't even show Eomer the welcome home he deserved. Instead I fell asleep, fully clothed in one of my finer dresses, in his arms. It was more than I deserved.

The next morning, I had slept past my usual wake-up time and the sun's rays woke me. Eomer's arms were absent and I reached for him only to find that he was gone from the room. I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I could hear hushed voices from a crack in the door. Aragorn and Éomer. I stood silently and spied like the twit I was.

"Does Imrahil know yet?" Éomer asked.

"I've kept the news from her family. Arwen told Imrahil that Lothiriel wasn't feeling well from traveling. He believes her, but Amrothos and Erchirion seem more skeptical."

"And how does Elphir fair?"

"Better now that he is away from the dry heat of Rhûn. I'm sure once he smells the salt waters of home his recovery will speed."

There was a pause in the conversation before Éomer continued. "Aragorn, we both know Rachel meant well, but I worry what Imrahil will think when he finds out Rachel is protecting her. And I feel foolish in admitting that the confines of relationships in your country confuse me somewhat still."

"I have spoken to Lothiriel. Had this been an act of defilement, I would accept her back into society without question. But the other nobles will not allow a woman who so willingly gave herself away to re-enter society like that."

I wanted to say something. Defend her to Aragorn, even though he didn't agree with the situation either, but I knew by this point that it was useless. Aragorn was a just person and he cared enough about Lottie to hear her side of the story and accept that she'd simply made a mistake. But the nobles of Gondor who wished for nothing but to rise in status wouldn't give a flying fuck about the true story. Lothiriel had been spoiled and she was no longer worth anything to them.

When had I become so accustomed to double standards? Had Middle-earth made me weak and lenient to people's stupidity? Or was this just a lesson I had learned? You can do your best to change people, but in the end, tradition and majority will win.

But I had changed things. I had made Rohan more accepting of women in men's roles. Hell, an entire legion just returned from war in Rhûn alongside the eoreds of Rohan.

But Aragorn had a point. That was Rohan, my home, the place I ruled over. I did not rule over Gondor. Gondor was not my territory. And were I to overstep my boundaries as a leader now, it could mean trouble for my entire country, not just me. It wasn't just my ass on the line anymore.

"Has she agreed to speak to her father?" Éomer asked.

"I've decided to tell Amrothos first. Or rather let her tell him. He is the most level headed of that family when it comes to Lothiriel. I suppose he sees her as more of an equal than the others do. I plan to take this one step at a time. And I think it would be best if Rachel removed herself from the situation. Rohan has involved itself enough. You are right to worry, Éomer."

"Thank you, Aragorn. When she wakes I'll let her know your decision. She won't like it, but she will have to accept it. It's what is best for Rohan."

I heard a clap of some kind. Maybe Aragorn patting his shoulder or them shaking hands. I bolted back to the bed, doing my best to look like I had just woken up.

Éomer walked back inside. "You're awake," he said, walking over and sitting beside me. He had bathed and changed out of his riding clothes and into a tunic and trousers. He must have been awake for a while now.

"Uh-huh," I said, throwing in a stretch for good measure. But he didn't buy it. He knew me too well.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough," I admitted after a pause.

He let out a sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed. "And will this news of the young princess's mistreatment cause a rift in our reunion?" he asked.

He sounded like he was giving up. Like our impending disagreement would end with me winning before the fight even started. "Éomer, what is the matter?"

"I do not wish to fight. Not today," he said, hanging his head. "Let me be stricken down by your decisions, but for once in so long, I want a day to go by where I am not in some kind of fight. Especially with you."

"That's not what you told Aragorn."

"We are in Rohan. Aragorn's commands here do not mean what they do on foreign soil."

I reached forward, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my head in the crook of his neck. "What happened over there, Éomer?"

His chest rose and fell with breaths that seemed to be holding back tears. "He promised it would be a diplomatic mission. That few skirmishes would take place. Yet, even with Aragorn's promises, we still fought and Thèoden is gone. He says Elphir will live, but I doubt he will pull through. With that and news of his daughter's indiscretion, I worry for Imrahil as well. We may have achieved what we set out to do in Rhûn, but I fear the repercussions it will have at home will be our undoing."

I had never seen him like this. Not even after Éowyn's death. His strength was the one thing in life I could count on to help me pull through anything that was too tough. I reached around and pulled his head to face my own, staring down those green eyes I had missed so much. "Listen. Thèoden was supposed to die on Pelennor Fields. We were lucky that he cheated death and could spend more time with us. Before he left, he told me that we couldn't see it as tragedy if he were to not return. And I plan to follow his advice for once. And as for Lothiriel, I will distance myself from the situation, if that is what you wish. We'll send the Gondorians home and be with our own people."

He reached up and his calloused fingers grazed my cheek. With a small smile, he said, "I wish it were that simple. But if I let you push the princess aside, you will hold the guilt forever."

I shook my head. "It isn't just about us anymore, Éomer. Everything we do will influence this country. We have a duty to Rohan first. We need to fix things here before we worry about other countries."

"You sound like Thèoden."

"I'm sure he would be pleased to hear that."

We both laughed at that, our foreheads touching. "You know," he said, reaching up again and cupping the side of my face. "If we are to avoid this scandal Dol Amroth has pushed on our doorstep, perhaps we should keep to our room for the day. I doubt the people will begrudge us some alone time before the afternoon."

I laughed even harder, laying my lips upon his for the first time since he returned, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and sinking into the mattress.

* * *

A knock sounded on the door not two hours later. Éomer had been drifting off into a slumber and I had been running my fingers through his tangled mane when the sharp taps made him jolt up.

"That would be Hemonbold," he sighed. "He'll want to start preparations for Uncle's funeral."

"I told the advisors that we would deal with all that tomorrow when the Gondorians were gone."

The impatient taps sounded again, bringing Éomer to his feet that time. He reached down and grabbed his trousers, pulling them on. I reached for my robe and pulled it on, keeping under the covers of the bed.

It wasn't Hemonbold. "Prince Imrahil," Éomer greeted.

"King Éomer. Might I have a word with your wife?"

"If this is about your daughter, my friend, you have our upmost sympathies, but Rachel and I have decided to distance ourselves. This is a family matter and we are not yet family."

"Not yet? What do you mean, not yet?"

Crap. He didn't know about Claire and Erchirion's engagement.

"I misspeak," Éomer covered. "But as I said, we will not be involving ourselves."

The older prince took a deep breath. "I apologize, my friend. This is not something my old heart ever thought I would be experiencing. But I must talk to the both of you. I must save my daughter from the fate she has sealed for herself."

"Your reaction is understandable, Imrahil. The future you envisioned for your only daughter is lost."

"Lothiriel cannot return to Gondor. She would be outcast, the nobles would revolt."

"As I have said, I am truly sorry for your family, Imrahil. Especially Lothiriel. If there was anything I could do—"

"But there is. Éomer, you are the only one who can help her. You and Rachel."

"What can we do?" I asked, drawing attention to myself for the first time.

Éomer invited Imrahil into our chambers and lead him to a loveseat in the corner. "As I understand it, Lothiriel's situation is not something that is frowned upon in your country, correct?"

Éomer and I shared a glance. "Bastards are bastards," Éomer said gently. "There is no changing illegitimacy. And without a father to claim a child, there is little hope for her to find more than a spinster's life. But Eorlingas would not cast out someone in her situation. That is considered a thing of the past."

"You saved my son's life, Éomer. There is little I wouldn't trust you with. I hope it isn't out of line for me to say that I wished our families to be united through marriage. I know now that you have found your heart's content in Lady Rachel, but I would still trust Lothiriel to you."

"I don't understand," I interjected. "You want Lottie to move to Rohan?"

"There is no other choice for her," he said, completely broken. "She has lost any life she could have had in Gondor. But there is hope in the Mark. The Mark has always held so much hope."

"Even here, Imrahil, this practice is still frowned upon," Éomer said. "She was not initially raped by the man—"

"But he did rape her," the prince growled. "I don't care how it started, the development exists. He raped my daughter and she is the one who will suffer the consequences."

"Has Aragorn decided on a course of action with Alanric?" I asked.

"The Ranger will be sent to work in Gondor's quarries as a labor prisoner. More than he deserves."

He was right. If I had to sentence a man to death for attempting to shoot me with an arrow, why did Alanric deserve his life after completely destroying another?

"Have you spoken to Lottie about this?" I asked, earning a careful look from Éomer.

"She has agreed. She cannot return to Dol Amroth, nor does she wish to. We will play this off as if she chose a life in this country. It will not be agreeable to the nobles of Gondor, but they will have to accept it, rather than learn the truth."

I was about to speak when Éomer beat me to it. "Might Rachel and I talk of this alone for a moment, Imrahil?"

"Of course," he said, standing and giving a small bow. "The fact that you are even willing to consider is warrant enough for gratitude."

He walked out of the room and Éomer reached for his tunic by the bed. "So we are to ward the princess and her child now?" he asked, calmly.

"I don't know what we're going to do, Éomer, but…I don't think I can leave her helpless when her father can find no other solution."

He let out a sigh and sat down on the bed. "To think that I would have married this…child."

"But you didn't," I said softly, reaching towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Aye," he sighed, leaning back into the embrace. "I suppose we should resurface to the world. It's a miracle we had even this much time with all the guests in the house."

"I think Aragorn knew we needed this."

* * *

 _Fanghorn Forest_

-Erchirion-

Fanghorn Forest. I had heard tell of that place. Stories of monsters and hauntings beyond nightmares. Yet that is where Claire asked me to meet her. Goforth was wary as we approached the thick trees. Lothiriel proved to be an excellent distraction as I snuck away. Whatever malady had overcome her had Father in a complete frenzy and he cared little about whatever I was doing. I would be back in the morning to depart for Gondor.

I had to dismount Goforth to lead him through the thickness of the trees. There was a clear path in the road that I followed. The sun had already been setting, which made it hard to weave through the trees.

The trees kept me the most wary. The wind whistled through their branches, like whispers creeping up through the blooms of spring. The tales of trees coming to life from the war entered my mind. Claire often spoke of the Ents but they were such fanatical creatures, I had trouble believing her.

I saw fire in the distance. A campsite. I steered Goforth in the direction where the trees' whispers began to grow louder and louder. It had to be Claire near the fire.

Suddenly, my path was blocked. Goforth reared back and I clutched his reins for dear life as what appeared to be the root of a tree fell right before me.

"What have we here?" A deep, slow voice asked.

Goforth landed back on the ground and I stroked his neck, hoping it would sooth the beast. Looking up, I found something straight out of folklore above my head.

It was a tree, no doubt about that. But the tree had a face. Its branches, thicker than five of my body's width served as its limbs.

"Well, speak your name, little Man."

I let out a small cough. Claire hadn't lied. This was an Ent. A real-life Ent. "E-erchirion, Prince of Dol Amroth," I stuttered.

"Hmmm," the Ent muttered. "Erchirion. Yes, that was the name. Come, I will bring you to whom you seek."

He started to walk, his limbs moving apparently slow but covering great lengths. He led me to the fire in the distance.

And there she was. The fire casting the golden sheen on her blonde hair, loose around her shoulders, her eyes like sapphires. Through six months, we had been parted. Six months of the limited twelve we had been given. I had pictured this moment in my head every day since setting off to the East and I could not wait any longer. I jumped from Goforth's back and practically ran to her, scooping her into my arms, inhaling her sent of campfire smoke and morning dew. I held on hand on the small of her back, the other I entangled in her hair. I felt her arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling her up to my height. Finally, I had her back.

A small cough brought us out of our moment, reminding me that we were not alone in this forest. Solumn stood beneath the Ent, his hands Goforth's reins. Across the clearing, another tree was moving and I realized it to be a second Ent.

I returned my gaze to Claire, who smiled, causing her blue eyes to sparkle even more. But beyond that sparkle there was something I didn't see at first. The shadows underneath her eyes were dark, making her look tired and unwell. Her pallor was pale, the roses in her cheeks no longer there. We had been parted for so long, the poison coursing through her body had made the significant changes that it had threatened to do for so long. No longer would she be able to treat it as a limp in her leg. Never until now had it been stated so clearly. She was dying.

"Hi," she said.

Oh, but the sound of her voice. I buried my face in the top of her head as if I would never get the chance to again. "I missed you so much," I muttered into her hair.

She pulled back, looking into my eyes again. "You're crying."

I had no doubts that she was wrong, but I could hardly focus on containing myself in this moment.

"Aren't you going to ask why I asked you here?" she asked.

"I hardly care about that right now."

She laughed, that amazing sound bringing a tug to my heart. "I missed you too, Erchirion."

"Though I do wonder what you've been doing since I left. You wrote nothing of travels, yet Dormund in Rohan tells me you've been gone since October."

"I-I had a lot to do. I wanted to go back to Bree and The Shire. I had to say goodbye to my Hobbit friends and to Tom. And when I heard you were returning, I came here, to Fanghorn. I wanted you to meet Treebeard."

"The Ent who found you, Merry, and Pippin in Fanghorn when you first came here," I remembered.

She nodded, pointing to the one who had yet to speak. "That's Quickbeam. He fought in the Battle of Isengard."

I spent a moment taking in the sight of the creatures before she spoke again. "Erchirion, these have been some of the hardest months of my life."

I brought my gaze back to her, replenishing my grip on her body. "Say no more of it, Claire. We are together again, and we will make the most of it while we can."

"Which is why I brought you here," she said. "I don't want to go back to Rohan or Bree or Dol Amroth. If I am to leave this place that I have dreamed of for so many years of my life, then I will see it. Every inch of it. And I want you to go with me."

I stroked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Elphir was injured during the war. If he succumbs, I will be next in line for the throne of my country. It is not that simple."

"Can't it be?" she asked. "Éomer could not run away with Rachel because he was the last of Eorl's lineage. But you're not the last of yours. Amrothos is still alive, as is Alphros. This doesn't have to be your responsibility."

And with her eyes pleading like that, I could not say no. "Nor shall it," I whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead. "But to ask me to travel with you is not the reason you brought me here, is it?"

"Well, I do believe I agreed to marry you when you returned."

"Here?" I asked, surprised.

"I did insist on a small wedding," she said. "Solumn can officiate. Treebeard and Quickbeam can witness. I don't need a fancy wedding. I don't even need my family there to prove to anyone that I love you. We've wasted enough time."

I was so surprised, I couldn't even speak, but I noticed her face fall. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I should have known you'd want your family there. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Claire," I said, pulling her face back towards mine. "I don't care where we are married. I only care that it happens. And right now is perfect."

"You still want me?" she asked. "Even after six months, you haven't changed your mind?"

"I have loved you for nearly two years. I told you this back in Ithilian. Six months away in the East will not have changed that."

And with that, her lips met mine for the first time since we were parted. It was so powerful that the horrors of the East were nearly erased from my mind.

"Alright, there, my lord," Solumn said, interrupting our moment. "Perhaps we should make it final before you start that."

I felt my face flush in front of my old comrade, but Claire laughed as Solumn stepped forward. "In the absence of parental figures, might I have your hands?" Solumn asked. I reached my left out to him and Claire, her right. "In the name of Varda," he grasped Claire's hand tighter. "And the name of Manwe," he also gripped mine. "I ask that Eru Illuvatar, the Father of All, may bless this union. May it be sealed with the bond of flesh," he pulled our hands together so that we could grasp each other's. "And the bond of love."

Claire reached into her pocket, pulling out the ring I had given her half a year ago and placed it in my empty hand. She also held a second, simple band. And we exchanged the rings, one I would be certain to never remove from my hand.


	56. Favor

_Chapter 18: Favor_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age 3021, April_

-Lothiriel-

"Where is Erchirion?" Father asked as he stood outside Meduseld. "I have not seen him since yesterday."

"We should be going, Father," Amrothos said. He was quite put out with me. Not because of what I had done with the Ranger, who was bound in chains to the saddle of a horse that would take him to Gondor's quarries. But because Aranel had been here and I had insisted she return to Dol Amroth and await him there. They had been married for less than a month when Elessar had summoned the knights to Rhûn and her leaving Rohan was just another week that they were to be parted. And though I didn't know when I would see Amrothos again, he continued his terse attitude towards me. Not that I didn't deserve it.

"We cannot leave without your brother."

"Father, he rode out to fid Claire. No doubt we will not see him for several days when she is concerned."

Father let out a gruff breath. It was odd that Erchie's disappearance would bother him so. Frankly, I was surprised Erchie had come to Edoras at all before fleeing to Claire's side. But soon, he turned to me. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, Lottie."

"I know, Papa," I said, doing my best to hold back tears. "I am just grateful you would still call me your daughter after what I have done."

His hand caressed my face. "You will always be my daughter, no matter what mistakes you make. I will always try to help you and I will always love you."

"Queen Rachel was right," I said. "I thought you would cast me aside, do little to help me find a solution to this mess I made. But you did no such thing."

"You should listen to Queen Rachel more often. I hear she is a smart woman."

"I love you, Papa."

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me as tight as he could. "And I love you, daughter. I will write you. I will visit. This is not the end, Lottie. It is just a new beginning."

And with that, I watched from the terrace of Meduseld as my people rode away from me, leaving me in this strange land, alone with a nauseous feeling in my stomach that had nothing and everything to do with the change in my life.

* * *

-Rimbon-

"Wulfgard," I said, taking a short step away from my commander. "I do not wish to defy your orders, but I cannot guard the Dol Amroth princess."

"Queen Racheal has stated we are not to refer to her as a princess anymore, lad."

"Lothiriel, then. Princess or not, it still rings true. I cannot be assigned to her. Let me stay on as the Queen's guard."

"The king's guard has returned from the East. Rachel Queen is in no need of a guard when Éomer King's is present. Everyone's duties must be doled out, Rimbon."

"Then assign someone else. Ask the Queen if you must. She will not want me placed as Lothiriel's guard."

"Actually, it was the Queen who assigned you, lad. You have nothing to argue here. I have re-assigned you. It is not your place to argue it, regardless of the Queen's requests."

"The Queen assigned me?" I asked after a pause, dumbstruck.

"Aye. Said you would be the best at helping the girl adjust to whatever new life she and Éomer King had planned for her. Tis not my place to argue with the Queen. I keep my opinions where they belong."

I ignored his quip, turning and exiting the barracks and making my way towards Meduseld. Wulfgard may feel the need to keep his opinions quiet, but I did not. I had taken an arrow for the Queen, saved her life, and supported her through this entire transition in her life. She knew why I could not guard the former princess. She was toxic to me. Our time spent in Ithilian had proven that.

Dormund was waiting in the hall, deserted but for his presence. "Where is the Queen?" I demanded.

"Watch your tone, boy," he snapped. "She is in the royal study. But I wouldn't go bothering her just now if I were you."

"It is an important matter," I retorted, stomping away though the corridor that lead to where I seeked. I came upon the closed door in no time, knocking loudly as I closed the distance between it and me.

"Milady, if I may?" I didn't wait for a reply. I opened the door, which turned out to be a mistake.

All the royal advisors were stationed in the room around her desk, but she wasn't sitting in its chair. Éomer King was seated there instead. Then it came to me; this was not her study, not when the King was present. And he had returned.

"Rimbon," Éomer muttered through gritted teeth. Rachel stood behind his chair, looking like she was holding back laughter. "It is customary to wait for a reply when one knocks on a door."

"Forgive me…sire," I said, bowing my head and attempting to sneak out of the study. Quickly, I started speeding down the hall. If Wulfgard got wind of this, he would have my hide. He would probably tell Elfhelm and my chances of joining an eored would be erased.

"Rimbon, wait," a voice called. The Queen was jogging after me, still looking amused.

"Forgive me, milady," I begged, wishing this could have just been forgotten. "I have grown accustomed to entering and exiting your study—the royal study. I did not think that Éomer King would be there. I suppose I've grown used to his absence."

She pursed her lips. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes, milady. It is about…well—"

"Lothiriel?" she said, sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I should have known not to have Wulfgard just throw that one on you. I would have assigned you myself, but things are a little tense at the moment with the advisors and Éomer, not to mention the whole thing with Lottie. But I swear, there's a reason I wanted you to be her guard."

"Why is that?" I asked, not caring if it sounded impertinent.

She let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "For a long time, I resented her. Lothiriel. And without reason. Not many know this, Rimbon, but she was supposed to be Queen of Rohan, not I."

"How could you possibly know that, milady?"

She grinned. "I forget how much some people know and others don't. But I guess it doesn't matter how I know this, the point is I do. Had I never met Éomer, never come to this land, she would be your queen. And knowing that…I have unfairly judged and resented her.

"But to answer your question," she said before taking another deep breath. She probably hadn't realized that her pallor had gone pale and the arms across her chest had tightened. And I stood straighter, knowing that she was to share with me something that made her completely uneasy, a stage I rarely saw the Bowmaiden. "A long time ago, I was in her position. In love with someone who did not love me back. And while I was not cursed with a child out of wedlock, I still felt the pain of rejection. I knew what it felt like to be unsafe in my own feelings. Without the help and support of Claire, I doubt it would have recovered from it.

"And I was able to escape it. I moved away from him and eventually came here where I will never see him again. And good riddance. But Lottie…she will always have this child—his child—with her. She will never be free."

"Milady, I still don't understand."

"You were an escape for her, once. You helped her, even though you may not realize it. She needs someone who will keep their distance, but make her feel safe. I would have assigned a female guard, but I worried that it wouldn't help her improve. She needs to learn to trust again."

"She needs to learn to trust men," I clarified. "She trusts you."

"I don't think she does," she muttered. "I've kept secrets from her. Secrets that I now know were useless to keep. Since she's arrived, I've done little more than try to get her situation out of my hands and now I am stuck with her. No, Rimbon, she doesn't trust me, nor should she." There was a long pause as I struggled to find the words to say. "Rimbon, I know you are reluctant to help me in this situation, but I have no one else. Please, help me."

And, once again, I felt I could not say no to the Bowmaiden.


	57. Journey

_Chapter 19: Journey_

 _The Road to Mithlond_

 _Six months later_

 _Third Age, 2031 September_

-Rachel-

"Ready to go?" Éomer asked as I pulled the belt through its fastening to Windfola's saddle.

"It would seem so," I muttered.

He grinned, walking around Winnie and pulling me into his chest. "It is hard to say goodbye, I know."

"I just…I can't imagine a world without her."

"You have not seen her since her visit two months ago for your birthday. And before that it had been since October of last year."

"I know." No matter how many times I tried to explain it to him, Éomer just wouldn't get it. And it wasn't just Claire who was leaving Middle-earth. Along with Bilbo and Frodo, there would be Elrond and Gandalf, two beings who served as guides to me in this realm. Even though I barely saw them, what would happen without the guarantee that they would be there for me if I needed them?

"We should get going. Faramir and Kristen will grow restless if we keep them waiting."

"Wait!" a voice called as we began to mount the horses.

"Lottie, we are late as it is," Éomer said, dropping his boot from Firefoot's stirrup.

"This will only take a minute," she insisted waddling her large stomach towards me. "Please give this to Erchirion," she said, handing me an envelope.

"You could have given this to him when he visited in July," I said, taking the paper and securing it in a saddlebag.

"It wasn't meant for July. It was meant for now. Please give it to him, my lady."

I nodded giving her one last hug, her baby thumping between us. "I will Lottie. Be safe and stay near Rimbon."

She chuckled. "You may insist that it is not true, Rachel, but you are a mother hen."

I laughed, mounting Winnie and following Éomer and Firefoot out of the stables, departing Edoras for the first time since Éomer had taken the mantel of King.

* * *

The travel was smooth. Too smooth for my tastes. With the eradication of Orcs and treaties with the Wildmen, what dangers could there have been? Plus, with a ten-man guard of Rohirrim and a two-man guard of Ithilian Rangers, there was little that would dare try to attack us. We frequented small towns, meeting all the different peoples of Middle-earth we could, a la Claire. She would have appreciated our attempts to bond with the countryside.

It took ten days to reach Mithlond. As we approached, I could smell the salt of the sea that we neared, hear the sound of the seagulls and, oddly enough, my thoughts strayed to the royal family of Dol Amroth. Was this what Lothiriel was missing as she walked the length of Meduseld's halls, her hand rested on her stomach? Was this what Erchirion longed for whenever he would sail the waves I smelled? Was it these waters that helped Elphir recover from the injuries we thought he would succumb to? It had been years since I had seen the ocean. I used to go every summer with Claire, Kristen, and our friends before Brandon died. Funny how Claire's love circled back to the ocean in the end.

 _You come bearing many questions you do not intend to ask_ …

What the hell? I shook my head, the thought creeping in there with a voice that was not my own.

 _You fear the answers, so you keep the questions in your mind. But I know your mind, Rachel Collins_ …

I pulled Winnie's reigns, stopping the guard behind me.

"Rachel?" Éomer asked. "We near Mithlond. What is the matter?"

I held up a finger, urging him to keep silent. I never thought she would just enter my mind like that. We had never met. I wasn't all that important.

 _You have risen to great renown, yet you still belittle yourself. You are a decorated warrior, queen to one of the greatest countries of Men, and a loyal friend and wife. Why do you do these this?_

I don't belittle myself…Do I?

 _You fear failure. You fear that you are not the right person to help rule over Rohan. You fear your husband's future disappointment if you are never to produce his heir. You fear that with your best friend gone from this world, you will lose your connection to the home you have lost._

Yes. Yes, this was all true. I vaguely remember Kristen pulling Éomer away from me as I descended Winnie and walked over to a tree, sitting with my back to it and letting my head fall into my hands. Even though I had ridden a Mearas, won the favor of the people and the royal advisors, I still feared. As a Queen, I had one duty above all others: produce an heir to Rohan's throne and secure the Line of Eorl. But I could not.

 _Is this written in stone?_ Galadriel asked. _It is not the future the Valar would give to someone who earned Oromë's respect._

But they were already punishing me. They were taking Claire from me, from this world, and the one person she managed to find love with since Brandon's death that nearly took her life too.

 _But we do not speak of Claire, child. We speak of you. Claire is a person with an amazing amount of selflessness. She does not leave to hurt you. She leaves because she must. And she does not leave you alone. Your ties to your home remain in Kristen Logan, your companion on this journey to the Grey Havens._

But Kristen and I…we were growing apart. We led lives in great distance.

 _And that is of your own faults, not Claire's. The conflicts that spur through your mind are vast. You believe yourself unfit for Rohan's throne, even with the blessing of Oromë. You fear for the loss of connection to you home, though it lives on in the friend who watches you closely now._

She wasn't wrong. My distance from Kristen had mostly been of my own fault. I could have written more letters or invited her to visit more. Maybe even taken a trip to Ithilian these last six months just to say hi. Soon, Kristen would be all I had left. I couldn't lose her too.

 _And you fear you will never begin a family with the man you love, even though the spark of life lit inside you once before._

But they died, I defended. Two children inside me were taken even before they got the chance to live. Before I got the chance to meet them.

 _A cruel hand the Valar delt you with that, I will not deny. However, if the twins had been born, what would have been the outcome?_

We'll never know.

 _Would the people of Rohan have accepted two bastard children? Even if Éomer had wed you, it would not have been until after their birth. You know this to be true. And even if the common people were accommodating, there is the issue with the people of your allies. You have seen what happens to those whose situation mirrors yours in the young Princess Lothiriel. So I ask you, Bowmaiden, were the Valar cursing you, or were they simply aiding you when your hands were too full to carry two newborns?_

So all the pain I endured from that miscarriage was them helping me?

 _Your own mother had a miscarriage. I see it in your memories. What was it she told you?_

God knew she couldn't handle a third child so He helped her before she bit off more than she could chew.

 _And the Valar did the same for you._

And just like that, I felt her voice leave my mind. I raised my head from my hands. Éomer was watching me, his eyes full of concern. Faramir looked confused, but Kristen seemed to understand what was going on. Of course, she knew of Galadriel's powers and she would have learned by now who all was to depart with the Last Ship.

I stood and walked over to Winnie, grabbing her reigns. "We're nearly there. I think I'll walk the rest of the way."

"Rachel?" Éomer said, grabbing my forearm and turning me gently towards him. "What in Bema's beard just happened?"

"A lot," I said. "And I'll tell you about it once I've said goodbye to Claire, I promise."

He nodded, though his face betrayed him. It wasn't fair to keep this from him and I had no intention to. We had to talk about what Galadriel had just told me, together.

I led the way through the trees, guided by the direction the voice in my head had come from. And soon, we were there. The wind whipped through the air with the dry salt of the sea. The sun was descending in the sky, illuminating the structures of the city. Like Rivendell, the trees seemed to be a part of the city, the nature spreading throughout in luscious greens and browns, the colors of autumn not quite reaching here just yet. A series of cobblestone streets that were abandoned led us down a pathway and soon, I could see the large white sails of the ships against the orange and blue sky.

At the base of the port, I could make out the figures below. Three were Elves, which I could tell from their height and that…something that made them distinct from all other creatures. Another could only be Gandalf the White, the Wizard who guided me through my journey, who helped me find a home. Five Hobbits stood in front of him and off to the side, a human couple stood with their foreheads touching and hands grasped. It could only have been Claire and Erchirion, saying their goodbyes.

I left Winnie there and continued down the pathway, Kristen's clicking boots sounding behind me. Soon, I found my pace had turned into a jog as I neared the port. And I stopped when the scene was at my level, Kristen still behind me.

Claire parted her head from Erchirion's when she heard us. When she had visited Rohan in July, she could no longer walk on her bad leg. Her cane had turned into a crutch, but that was all that had changed. In these last three months, her eyes had become laced with raccoon-like circles. She was wearing a skirt, probably due to the fact that trousers were too restricting and painful. She clutched onto her prince with white knuckles as he led her slowly towards us. She hobbled when her left leg hit the ground and his arm around her waist had to practically carry her. For the first time, it was made explicitly clear to me: Claire was dying.

Kristen wrapped her arms around Claire first and I looked away to give them a moment of privacy. My eyes found Erchirion's and I remembered Lottie's letter. Silently, we communicated what I hoped was mutual thank yous. I thanked him for his commitment and care for my dying friend. He thanked me for sheltering Lottie when she could no longer live in their home by the sea.

Soon, Claire and Kristen broke apart, and it was my turn to say goodbye. All too soon. I wrapped my arms around Claire's shoulders and I felt hers around my torso, tighter than I had expected. I didn't know what to say.

"Rachel," she whispered in my ear. "Remember when we would leave each other post-it notes back home?"

"Yes."

"One time you read my journal, after Brandon died. I know you read it, because of the note you left me the next day."

"You wrote that since he died, you felt like you lost your best friend."

"And your note said that I didn't have to feel that way. That I always had a best friend in you."

"It's true," I said, feeling the tears in my eyes and voice, trying to keep calm for her sake. "Even after you're gone, Claire. You will always be my best friend."

"I love you," she said, her grip getting tighter.

"I love you too."

"The power of the Three Rings has ended," Galadriel said. "The time has come for the dominion of Men."

" _I aear can ven na mar_ ," Lord Elrond muttered. As Claire moved out of my embrace, he moved towards us, the group of Men, and held his hand out to Claire. " _Ha na-anand, Híril-o galad_."

She took it, extending her other to Erchirion one last time, and was led to the ship, their hands slipping away from each other.

Celeborn boarded after Bilbo, followed by Claire and Elrond. I could hear Gandalf speaking to the Hobbits, but I didn't register it. Another voice spoke louder in my mind as her blue eyes pierced my own.

 _Do not despair, Bowmaiden. Look to the future as your own and know that the knots you have tied can never be severed with the strength with which you sealed them._

I nodded and she gave me a small smile before boarding the ship, Gandalf and Frodo not long after her. Gandalf met my eyes as well, though no words were spoken in my head. I simply mouthed, _thank you_. And the Wizard smiled.

And she was gone.

* * *

 _Translation: The sea calls us home. The time has come, Lady of Fire._


	58. Sea

Chapter 20: Sea

 _Mithlond_

 _Third Age, 2031 September_

 _-_ Racheal-

"But, you never spoke to her," Éomer said, utterly confused.

"Not with our mouths, no. She spoke to me in my mind. Éomer, she was one of the oldest creatures in Middle-earth. She was a student of the Valar, Yavanna's personal favorite pupil. She knew magic that far surpassed this realm."

"What did she tell you?"

I paced the length of our tent, pitched just outside of Mithlond. We weren't permitted to stay in the elvish territory, so we had made camp on the city's outskirts. Erchirion had accompanied us and slept outside with the guards. He was planning on riding with Kristen and Faramir back to Gondor. I knew not what Lothiriel's letter to him said, but whatever it was had left him in a stoic mood. Already, he was miserable with Claire having left and the burden of whatever that letter said was etched on his face. Éomer and I shared a tent and sleep was nowhere in sight as Galadriel's discussion had to be discussed between the two of us.

"Not only could she hear my thoughts, Éomer, but she could sense my distresses."

He gave a small smile. "You have lost your best friend and sister. Anyone would be distressed, love."

"No. Éomer…she knew about Rivendell."

Suddenly, he grew much more serious. "Did Elrond tell her?"

"No, that's what I'm trying to tell you. Elrond didn't need to tell her. She knew."

He stood then, walking towards me and grabbing both of my hands tightly in his. "You've been listening to the gossip again, haven't you?"

He spoke of Meduseld's gossip. "I always listen, Éomer. How else will I learn what happens behind closed doors?"

"I do not want to shut you out. I thought it was what you wanted."

"Six months," I said. "Six months I was left in charge of our country, the safety and expense of my own life put at risk because of it. And now I am to be tossed aside and spoken of like I am just a baby-maker?"

"You feared the throne even more than I. I thought you would welcome the distance, not be belittled by it." He pulled my face up to his eyes. "I swear, love."

I knew this. I knew this because I knew him. He would always try to protect me, whether that be from Orcs or politics. I lay my head on his chest, letting him wrap his arms around me. "I only wish you wouldn't listen to the gossip," he said.

"How can I not? Everyone watches me with piercing eyes, waiting for me to conceive your heir. Fifteen months we've been married and no child as a result of it."

"I was gone for six months."

"And you've been back for an equal amount of time, not excusing the four we had before you left. They all gossip, Éomer. They all know it to be odd. They know I'm odd."

"I'll not deny that," he said, shifting his position and walking us back to our cot. "From the moment I met you, you were the oddest girl I had ever seen, with your odd clothes and your odd voice, speaking in tongues and riddles, knowing more about me than I knew about you. But let me make one thing clear, Rachel. I would not have fallen in love with someone plain. Uncle used to talk my ear off about it. Every girl before you was plain and I never loved. Every girl before you was easy, but you…you are Bema's greatest challenge of my life. You test me, you make me uncertain, you even scare the living daylights out of me on occasion."

"Éomer—,"

"I'm not finished," he said, silencing me with a finger to my lips. "Remember the Battle of Pelenor? And how I refused to leave you side, even when your attention was demanded by you sisters? I admitted my feelings to you that day and you did not reciprocate. You never found me to say goodbye before I left for Morannon. I know now that that was Uncle's doing, but at the time, I thought I had scared you off. You, who were unafraid of the Witch-king, were scared by my declaration. It was your promise of starting over that kept me alive in that battle, Rachel."

"You never told me that," I muttered.

"I know."

"Then why tell me now?"

"We are good at starting over, you and I. I have fallen deeper in love with you as each day passes in our lives. We started over in Rivendell and we started over after Uncle's passing. I told you our first night in Aldburg as husband and wife that I was not ready to have a child. And as much as it pained you, you admitted that neither of us were ready. But look at us now. We are leading Rohan together in a big, empty house." He leaned closer to me, resting his forehead against mine. "And I think it's time we made it a little less empty."

"It's not that simple, Éomer. The PCOS—,"

"I don't care. If Yavanna's favorite pupil has said it does not matter, than why should it? Yavanna is the mother of trees and all good and green on this earth. And I think she knows more about the sparks of life than us."

"What's changed? Why now?"

"I know what it is like to be parted from you for far too long. And watching Uncle die and Elphir nearly succumb, I don't want to lose what chance we have. I want to watch you become the mother of my children. I don't want to wait to have this experience with you."

I smiled, laying my lips on his for only a moment. "Then let's stop wasting time."

-Erchirion-

I parted from Kristen and Faramir upon reaching Ithilian. I had no desire to enter the city where I had first spoken to her. Everything seemed to remind me of her. Arrod, tailing Goforth was one of them. Rachel had offered to take Arrod back to Rohan's stables, but I had doubts in his abilities to ride as a Rohirric steed. Claire had spoiled him too much and when the time came to leave him in the horse-kingdom, I couldn't part with him. He was all I had left of the short time with my wife.

Lothiriel's letter to me had been brief. _Go home_ , she had said. _See Elphir, for he has recovered. Speak to father. Play with Alphros. Do not distance yourself as I have done_. A long list of duties and responsibilities I had not been saddled with for six months.

But I could no longer deny them. The people would be wondering where I was. In Elphir's injured state, I should have been the one handling his duties as heir to Dol Amroth's throne. Father was more than likely irate with me. It would not be as pleasant as my sister made it out to be. With her shenanigans, the people were already more than likely put out with my family. And my return probably wouldn't be as well received as Lottie thought.

I led Goforth and Arrod through the city. The sails of the ships in the harbor that once brought excitement only brought reminders of my wife's departure. The smell of the salt waters did not have the same effect of years past. It was as if Ulmo taunted me with the sound of his waves.

I dropped the horses off at the stables, taking the long staircase by foot. The stable hands said nothing to me, though their eyes widened with surprise at the sight of my face. It would be nothing but that for days. I had never been one who appreciated ogling.

"Prince Erchirion?" a familiar voice said as I entered the hall of the palace. No guards had tried to stop me. They knew my face.

"Lindwen," I greeted, nodding politely.

"My lord, I'll not deny, you surprise me. I don't think anyone planned for your return."

"I don't think I ever planned for it myself," I told the old housekeeper. "Where is my father?"

"Minas Tirith, at the request of King Elessar. Prince Elphir sits in his place."

"And where is Elphir?"

"The nursery, my lord with Prince Amrothos as well. Now, if you'll excuse me, chores don't do themselves."

The nursery? Why would Elphir be in the nursery? The old maid didn't give me time to ask, though. She scurried away through a door that led to the kitchens. Elphir did not frequent the nursery. That was where Beriana spent most of her time. And Amrothos had little reason to go there.

I had not been in the nursery since Alphros was newborn. Beriana had caught the flu after giving birth and we had all pitched in to help taking care of the baby since she had not hired a nanny at the time. I walked the halls, servants passing me, greeting my return, and I halfheartedly greeted back. I shouldn't be here. Walking these halls made me feel like a ghost. I didn't feel alive.

The door to the nursery was wide open and laughter sounded from inside. When I reached the entrance, I could see my family. Amrothos sitting on the floor, his back against Aranel's legs, her hands resting across an expanding stomach. Elphir and Beriana were also on the ground, Alphros crawling back and forth between them. It was a scene I did not want to interrupt. They looked like a painting of perfect times. Without permission, a vision crossed my mind of Claire and I amongst them, her sickness void and all that was left was happiness.

I didn't need to be here, the poltergeist amongst their family portrait. But I couldn't escape, for Beriana spotted me after mere seconds.

"Erchirion?"

All sets of eyes, save that of my nephew, shot in my direction. Amrothos was on his feet, bounding in my direction almost immediately, his arms around my shoulders. "Brother, where have you been?"

"Never mind where he's been," Elphir said, handing Alphros off to his wife. With a stiff hand, he pulled Amrothos off of me, grabbing his own hug. "What matters is that he is back. We missed you, brother."

"Where is Claire?" Beriana asked when Elphir had removed himself from my space. I only just realized that I hadn't hugged either of my brothers back.

"You do not have to tell us," Aranel said, still sitting in her chair. I thanked her with my eyes, knowing she was one of the few who knew the truth. Claire was gone.

Elphir cast a glance at our sister-in-law, then back to me. "We have much to talk about, Erchie. Father is on his way back, due this eve."

"No doubt very put out with me," I said.

"Do not fret Father's angst," Amrothos said, clapping my shoulder. "But Elphir is right. We have much to talk about and it would best be done before Father's return."

And with a hasty goodbye to their wives, my brothers ushered me to Elphir's study, adjacent to Father's. And I was cornered.

"I do not wish to talk about Claire," I said as Elphir motioned for me to sit down. "I want to make that very clear, brothers."

"You don't have a choice, Erchie," Elphir said. "You disappear for six months. I wake from fever expecting you to be at my side and find that Amrothos has taken over your duties and you are nowhere to be found. We are not stupid, brother. We know you were with Claire."

I turned to Amrothos. "Surely Aranel told you about her?"

My younger brother's gaze shifted to his feet. "She did. And frankly, it seems rather fanatical. I thought her leg was damaged, not killing her. When Aranel told me—,"

"You were angry, and understandably so."

"No, Erchie," Amrothos defended. "I was confused. And full of pity for the two of you."

I turned to Elphir. "No doubt you know of this as well?"

He nodded. "I hadn't the heart to tell Beriana. She adored Claire. We all did. And I'm sad you never brought her to say goodbye."

"I…I thought that if I did…it would be too real," I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

"You married her," Amrothos said. It wasn't a question. His eyes were on the ring she had gifted me in Fanghorn.

"I tried to do right by her."

"And in turn," Elphir said. "You have done wrong by yourself."

"Do not lecture me, Elphir," I said with malice. "It is not your place."

I thought he would be mad at my comment, but my elder brother simply shifted in his seat. "You have loved a dying girl, Erchie, but you have never been close to death. Had the blade shifted by a hair, I would not be sitting with you today. I wouldn't be here for my son or my wife."

"A wife you never wanted."

"You are not wrong," he said, malcontent in his voice now. "But I have learned from my mistakes. I am not the savage you think me to be."

"So you have grown in the ways of love, is that it?"

"Yes, brother," he said simply. "And I cannot imagine what you are going through. My heart aches for you, Erchie."

"What I don't understand," Amrothos cut in. "Is why you are here and not with her."

"The Elves forbid it. Men cannot travel to the Undying Lands."

"But what is to stop you? You are the best sailor in Dol Amroth, born with the salt in your veins. If anyone can triumph Ulmo's waves to the Undying Lands, it is you."

"It cannot be that simple."

"I don't see why not, Erchirion," Elphir said. "You have ships at your disposal."

"You are telling me to leave forever?"

"If it means you will be with the one you love, it must be worth it. And if Aranel were in Claire's position, you can bet pearls I would do everything to stay by her side," Amrothos said.

"What are you waiting for, Erchirion?" Elphir asked. "Claire shouldn't be kept waiting across the seas."


	59. The End

_Chapter 21: The End_

 _Edoras, Rohan_

 _Third Age, October 2031_

-Éomer-

"Are you feeling any better?" I asked, walking into our room, Elphir's letter clutched in my hand. Rachel had been bedridden with the flu for the last week. She sat up at my entrance, probably wondering why I had come in the middle of the day. We had agreed that both of us getting sick was not worth the trouble, and I had done my best to keep my distance, to both our dismays.

"I really want to say yes, but I feel as if Bema ran over me with twenty stallions and drowned me in boiling water," she said. "I'm glad you're here, Éomer, but I don't want you to catch whatever this is."

"I have been risking it so far and have caught nothing. You should meet with a healer again, though. I would have thought the flu would have passed by now, or at least your fever should have broken."

"Aaryn brought in a healer from the village a few hours ago, named Awanya. But she didn't tell me anything. Said she needed a second opinion and should be back any minute now."

"Well, let me brighten your spirits before she returns," I said, handing her the letter.

Her eyes grew with every word she absorbed. "Is this true?" she muttered.

"I have no doubt that it is. Erchirion sailed to the Undying Lands himself."

"Well, that's…gods, I don't know what to say."

"Say that once you are better we will celebrate in this triumph of love."

"What if he doesn't make it?" she asked, carefully folding the parchment into a neat square.

"I refuse to accept that the best sailor in all of Dol Amroth fell in love with a girl destined for the seas by mere coincidence."

She was saved having to answer when Aaryn entered, two women behind her. "Éomer King," the young maid said with a small curtsy. "We did not expect you at this time a day."

"I hope you come with good news," I said, nodding in greeting to the healers that trailed her. "Rohan isn't the same with her queen bedridden."

The elder of the two healers stepped forward. "I am Awanya, sire. This is Calith, a midwife from the village."

"A midwife?" Rachel and I both asked at the same time.

"Yes. I asked her to come because I did not think Rachel Queen's symptoms were that of the flu. Her fever is not high enough and her nausea only came periodically. With the flu, it is more constant. I wanted a second opinion on your condition, milady."

"But I can't be pregnant," Rachel said. "I'm on my period right now."

"Moon bloods do not always cease immediately, highness," Calith said, stepping forward. "Often, in the first few months, there is spotting. So it is possible."

"No, you don't understand," Rachel protested, sitting up much too fast and wincing, but with these words uttered by the midwife before me, I was frozen to the spot.

"What is not to understand, milady?" Calith asked. "I have been aiding pregnant women of the Mark since before your own birth. And, with all due respect, you have never been pregnant before. The signs are all there, I assure you."

"That's where you're wrong," Rachel said, earning a surprised look from Calith and Awanya. Aaryn, on the other hand, showed little surprise. As Rachel's confidante, she would know the story.

Hearing the pain enter my wife's voice brought me back from my immobile state of momentary shock and to her side. "I know it brings you pain to speak of these memories, but if this is possible, the midwife should know of the past."

"Is there a reason you believe this to be impossible?" Calith asked, her voice turning straight to concern.

"I miscarried twins a year and a half ago on a…trip to Rivendell," she muttered, her voice shaking slightly as she slid her hand into mine, gripping tightly.

I saw the eyes of both healers widen, but neither acknowledged what they really wanted too: the fact that we had not yet been wed a year and a half ago. Which was all for the best. I cannot tell you what I was feeling in that moment. Confusion, elation, and fear were probably most notable. Anger at their judgment of my wife, their queen, was not one I needed in the mix.

"A miscarriage does not mean pregnancy becomes impossible," Calith said, gently. "But I am glad you told me of it, highness. That way I can do my best to guarantee that you do not lose another child."

"So, it is certain, then?" I asked the midwife. "Rachel is…with child?"

She smiled, widely. "That she is, sire. The prince or princess of the Mark lies in her womb."

"I think the King and Queen would like a moment alone," Aaryn said, gesturing to the door and leading the other women out of our chambers.

I turned back to her, expecting her to be happy. This was what she wanted, after all. And if the news made me this excited, it should have elated her. Instead, her face held a different look.

"Rachel, my love," I whispered, cupping her face with both of my hands. "It has happened. It has truly happened."

"What if…what if she's wrong? What if it's just the flu?"

"Even I have heard of Calith. She is the daughter of the women who brought Éowyn and me into the world. A long generation of midwifes. She cannot be wrong."

"Then what if I can't keep him?" she said, tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to fall. "Éomer, I've wanted this…since I lost the twins. When you told me that you were finally ready, I was eager to bring children into the world. But now…what if I lose him just like the twins?"

"Rachel," I said, moving my hands from her face to her shoulders. "You won't let that happen."

"You can't just say that."

"Yes, I can. Love, if there is one thing our three years together has taught me, it is that you never make the same mistake twice."

"Éomer, I'm scared."

And there it was. Never, not even upon our reuniting in Rivendell or the night I departed for Rhûn, had she ever admitted to me she was scared. I always thought her to be fearless, though I knew it not to be true. She felt fear like any human being. But between the two of us, I saw her to be the braver one. And I realized now that I could never understand what she was about to endure for the next nine months. It was no wonder my fearless wife was scared. I could not erase her fear, a pain that ached in my heart. But I could dull the fear.

"You said 'him'," I muttered.

"What?"

I placed a gentle hand on her stomach. "You called the baby a 'him'."

"Did I?"

"Do you think we are to have a son?"

The corner of her mouth seemed to turn upward, if only slightly. "I suppose I must if that's what I said." She placed a hand on top of my own. "Do you want a son?"

"Son, daughter, or billy goat. I really couldn't care less. I already love our child."

"Please don't ask me to give birth to a billy goat."

We laughed together, and talked of the future well into the night.

* * *

 _Fourth Age, 1 February_

-Rachel-

My second pregnancy progressed much like my first. Morning sickness abound, with aches and pains throughout my whole body, but I did not care. I had been scared at first, no doubt about that, but I had nothing to fear. Had Galadriel not promised me that the Valar had this planned for me all along? Not only that, but this time I had Éomer by my side.

Nothing went wrong until the fourth month. My stomach had started to expand as I entered my second trimester and I had been carrying on my duties as Queen and as the trainer of Rohan's female eoreds. The only thing Calith had forbidden was riding, much to Windfola's dismay.

I shouldn't have been fighting, that much had been made clear to me. Yuri was struggling with a defensive move I had been trying to teach her. And so, I allowed myself to demonstrate. Big mistake. Her lunge took my slowing reflexes completely off guard. Her blade sliced into my shoulder and the smell of blood sent my nauseous head spinning. I fell to the ground.

I don't remember what immediately happened. Someone had caught me and carried me to my chambers. Probably Wulfgard, whom the council had ordered to accompany me everywhere now that I was carrying the future heir of Rohan's throne.

Aaryn arrived not much later, a sewing kit in her hand to close my wound. I hated stitches. I hated needles. But I knew I had to suffer through the pain, or else risk infection.

Éomer barged through the door when Aaryn had finished, my handmaiden scurrying out of the chamber before his red face exploded. I was not so lucky.

"How? How could you be so reckless at a time like this? Rachel, it is bad enough that you would put yourself in harm's way when it is just you, but it is no longer just you. You carry a child. Our child—,"

"I feel like a child, getting reprimanded in this way," I said, wanting to sit up straighter, but the bulge in my stomach and the pain in my shoulder would not allow it. I'd have to find dignity in my voice alone.

"Well, when you act like a child-,"

"Fuck off, Éomer. My life is still my own. I still have responsibilities, just as you."

"Your responsibilities do not go much further than planning Meduseld's next feast!"

My eyes narrowed like daggers. "Get out."

I could tell he regretted his words. "Rachel—,"

"I said get out, Éomer!" I screamed. He looked like he wanted to protest, but he gave up, turning towards the door. "And you can sleep in your study tonight!"

He slammed the door behind him and I sunk even deeper into my pillows. I hated fighting, but it seemed the only way I could get my point across. I could not stop my life from changing because of this baby, but that didn't mean mine would take second place to my husband's. No, raising this baby was going to be a team effort. We mutually agreed on that front, but as of late, it seemed his life stayed consistent and mine was forced to take a backseat while I served as a human incubator.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts. "Enter," I said, tersely.

It was Calith. Of course, Aaryn would have sent for her. If Éomer was paranoid about this pregnancy, Aaryn's paranoia was multiplied by a tenfold, though her opinions were kept sealed behind tight lips. At the lightest sign of something wrong, Aaryn sent for my midwife. And getting slashed through the shoulder wasn't something light.

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

"I'll be the judge of that, highness," Calith said, walking over and pulling the neck of my shirt down. There was only one reason I didn't protest. I liked Calith. She didn't take my shit like everyone else around here. She wasn't afraid to stand up to me. "I think it is safe to say that sparring sessions with your students won't be happening again."

"You're the boss," I muttered.

"Not that it's any of my business…"

"Never stopped you before, Cal."

She grinned. "Fighting with your husband in this time of happiness might not be the best idea."

"You're here to check on my health, not berate my marriage," I snapped.

"My, aren't we a bit feisty today."

I huffed. "I don't know what's wrong."

"Pregnancy can have an effect on a mother's mood. Do not worry. But it would be wise to do your best to fight these moods, if not for your own sanity, than Éomer King's."

She was right, of course. That night, Éomer didn't return to our chambers. Not that I expected him too since I told him to get bent, but he was the one in the right…mostly. Thalion accompanied me as I grabbed my warmer furs to tackle the freezing January corridors of Meduseld and made my way to his study, knocking.

"Enter," he said tersely after a short moment.

I creaked the door open wide enough to poke my head through. "I understand if you don't want to see me right now."

He looked up from his desk, eyes showing surprise to see me. "I thought you had gone to bed."

"You know I can't sleep when we fight," I said, opening the door wider and walking in, Thalion behind me. "I'm sorry for what I said."

He shook his head before running his hands over his face. "You don't need to apologize."

"It's just that…you know I hate it when you imply that I'm only useful behind the walls of this Hall."

"And you know I hate it when you deliberately put yourself in danger. Especially now, Rachel."

"Yeah…and you're right."

His face came out of his hands, looking at me in shock. "I'm sorry, but did you just admit I was right? How do those words taste in your mouth?"

"Like Erkenbrand's homemade ale."

He laughed, holding out his arms so I could sit in his lap. "No more sparring until after the baby is born," I agreed. "I promise."

He kissed the top of my head. "Have you been thinking of names?"

The question caught me off guard. "No, not really. Have you?"

"I was thinking, if it is a boy, naming him after Theodred. And a girl—,"

"After Éowyn?"

His brow furrowed. "Actually, I was thinking 'Claire'."

I bowed my head. "I couldn't do that. To be reminded of what happened every day…and by my own child."

"Say no more, love. It is the same reason I would not want to name our daughter after my sister."

"But Theodred is fine?"

"Theodred was different." He paused for a second, trying to find words.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain. We'll think of a name for a girl."

"We may not have to. You are so convinced it is a boy."

"I am not."

"You say 'him' more often than anything. And I certainly wouldn't mind a horselord running through the halls."

"Girls scare me."

He let out a bark of laughter. "But you are a girl."

"I took care of little girls for a living. Trust me, they're scary."

"You are not scared of Eorinya or Lottie's daughter."

"Lostariel is four months old and Eorinya scares the bajeezus out of me, thank you very much."

"So, you don't want a daughter?"

"It's not that I don't want a daughter, I just think a boy will be easier. Not to mention the whole council is rooting for a boy."

"Since when do you care what the council thinks?"

"I guess that's a good point."

We sat there for a few more minutes, Thalion falling asleep by the fireplace. I felt my eyes start to sag and Éomer's mouth moved to my ear. "Does this mean I can sleep in our bed tonight?"

"Mm-hm," I sighed, letting him pick me up and carry me back to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 _Fourth Age, 1 May_

-Éomer-

Rachel's health didn't improve over the next three months.

Soon, the baby started kicking. I moved my hand all around her stomach, feeling for the little flutters from my child's feet. "I…I can't believe this."

"It's been happening for six months now. I thought we'd gotten used to the idea," she jested.

"No, but…I can feel him now."

"Yeah, that makes two of us."

I still had issues with her spending so much time around the weaponry, but after the incident with the sparring, she had promised that demonstrations were out of the question. But it wasn't enough.

Work kept us both busy during the day. I spent most of my time seeing to paperwork with my advisors or addressing issues in the kingdom. Some noble or another was always beckoning at my doorstep with whatever was bothering him at the time. But I was not expecting Wulfgard to burst into my study, look of fear on his face.

"Sire, it is Rachel Queen! You must come!"

Without question, I was on my feet, Fingran doing his best to keep up behind me. Wulfgard rushed me to my chambers, but I could hear her sounds of pain from the end of the corridor.

"She fell down the stairs to the kitchens. Aaryn sent for Calith. The midwife should be here by now," he explained.

Indeed, Calith was there, her hands moving over Rachel's stomach. Rachel lay in the bed, her face red with pain and sweat. I rushed to her side, grabbing her hand. "I'm here, love. I'm here."

She seemed to be grinding her teeth together, trying to dull the pain, but Calith had other ideas. "You need to breathe, milady. The baby cannot breathe if you do not."

The time seemed to pass slowly, and I was reminded of Rivendell. How she must have undergone this amount of pain, but without me by her side. Then, the worst thought entered my mind: what if the fall had killed the baby?

But I could not dwell on that right now. I never allowed myself to dwell on that fact. I had not been there for her during the greatest pain she had ever faced. And I didn't know if my wife could handle it a second time.

Eventually, though, the pains passed and Rachel was able to lean back into the pillows, her eyes closing. But she could not fool me. She closed them to hide the tears.

"I'm afraid that is all we can do for now," Calith said.

"What of the baby?" I asked.

The midwife avoided my eyes. "When milady feels movement, we will know everything is fine."

"Until then?" I pressed.

"I think it best we confine milady to bed until the baby is born. With the previous miscarriage you told me about, it is best we not risk it."

I nodded thanks as she left the room, leaving us alone. "Are you alright?" I whispered.

"I can't feel him," she said, her voice shaking. "For three weeks now, he constantly fluttered in my belly. Now I can't feel him move."

"And that's why you are now on bed rest. Your sweating continues, as does a pulsing heartrate. Perhaps if we get you calm, he will move again."

"And what if he doesn't? What if it happens again? I can't do it, Éomer. I can't."

I wanted to reassure her. Hold her in my arms and speak promises in her ear. But as my own forearm rested against her stomach and could not feel our child's movement as I had just that morning, I couldn't. When she lost the twins in Rivendell, it did not strike me like pain. The relief was too great then. But now…

I had lost many in my life. My father, mother, cousin, sister, and uncle. I had no living relatives. I couldn't lose another.

* * *

We felt him move that night. Rachel, seemingly unable to sleep, must have been forced to from the sheer exhaustion this pregnancy took on her body. I lay beside her, panic still creeping through my form at the potential loss of our child. Nearing dawn, her hand unexpectantly shook me from my thoughts. "Éomer, wake up! He's moving! He's moving!"

And all was right with the world again.

* * *

 _Fourth Age, 1 July_

Rachel did not like being confined to a bed, only allowed a walk to bathe or relieve herself. She was a woman of action. And as far as actions went, Calith had forbidden most of them, which took a toll on both of us. I grew immensely tired of my own chamber walls but I couldn't imagine what Rachel must have been going through when I could at least leave and she could not.

But there was some comfort out of this. She was writing again. Ever since the war in Rhûn and our coronation, she hadn't had the time. I had forgotten how much I missed her tales. Glass slippers and magic oil lamps filled my imagination to the point of distraction at times, though she had told them to me time and time again. I grew envious of our child, who would get to hear these tales for the first time soon enough.

And the day came when Wulfgard ran into my study again, shocking the council, declaring, "Rachel Queen has gone into labor, sire!"

Faster than a flash of lighting, I ran through the Hall to our chambers where she was pacing the room in a calm manner.

"Should you be walking?" I said, moving to her side and grabbing her arm to support her.

"Calith said to pace once my water broke to encourage contractions."

So we paced until a contraction hit. "Holy Dolores Landingham, that hurts." Every word came out of her mouth through gritted teeth.

I did not know what a Dolores Landingham was, but that hardly mattered right now. "You should sit down," I said, wanting to help her move, but unsure if I even should.

"I think I'll take it from here, sire," Calith said, entering the room. "Aaryn ran to fetch me." Sure enough, the handmaiden was already in the washroom, pumping water from the well beneath Meduseld.

I knew it was not customary for a husband to be in the room during childbirth. "Should I…"

"Leave?" Calith asked, leading Rachel to the bed.

"If you leave, I swear on Bema's boots I will skin you," Rachel threatened.

Calith pursed her lips, but did not protest. "If you are to stay, sire, you must understand that this will not be pleasant. And what I say goes."

I nodded, taking a seat beside Rachel as she squeezed my hand so tightly, there were bruises the next morning.

To spare my wife's embarrassment, I will keep things plain and simple.

To watch what happened in that room was a miracle. About an hour passed before Calith declared it was time for Rachel to push. And the room transformed as Rachel's screams were replaced by ones of higher pitch. My wife collapsed into the pillows, breathing deeply, all pain seemingly gone. Her grip loosened on my hand and with my free one, I moved her sweaty hair gently from her face.

In a blanket smaller than my boot, Calith had wrapped our baby and handed the bundle to Rachel.

"A girl," Rachel said, the tears in her eyes heard in her voice as well. "Éomer, we have a daughter."

She was so pale, like the marble walls of Minas Tirith. Calith had cleaned her and her hair was a small tuft of blonde. Her eyes were closed and she was no longer crying. She was searching for something with her hands, her mouth drown in a small "o".

By natural instinct, Rachel fed our daughter. At some point, Calith and Aaryn left the room, but I was too distracted to notice. Too distracted by her small hands, her small feet. When she finished suckling, I held her in my hands that equaled her size.

I had once told Rachel that I feared babes and it had not been a lie. But looking at that tiny creature we created together, I could never be afraid. I could only feel my chest threatening to burst with the love I felt in that moment.

"We obviously can't name her Theodred," Rachel said, her head leaning against my shoulder.

"Do you have something in mind?"

"I was thinking about something Galadriel said to me."

"In Mithlond?"

She nodded. "She said I feared losing my connections to my past. To my home. So I was thinking…Caroline."

"South Carolina. Caroline. Our Caroline," I tested the name in my mouth. "Princess Caroline of Rohan."

"Caroline, Daughter of Éomer," she said. "What do you think?"

I moved my head, my eyes leaving Caroline for the first time, kissing her mother. "I love it."

A soft coo came from Caroline then, reverting our focus. For the first time, her eyes had opened.

"Hazel?" I asked. "That is strange. My mother had green eyes, like me. My father, blue. Yours are brown."

I heard Rachel sniff and noticed her tears had returned. "My mother. She has my mother's eyes. Éomer, I never thought I would see her eyes again."

"A gift in more ways than one."

 **The End**

* * *

 _Well, friends…we've made it. The final book in this epic journey that has lasted us nearly two years is over. We've laughed, we've cried, and now, we say goodbye. Once again, I am headed off to that magical land of summer camp and with it, I leave you with this. I hope it satisfies and starts your summers off right. Thanks for sticking around so long, mellon. Until we meet again._

 _Bowmaiden_


End file.
